Chelsea Grin
by TykiMickey
Summary: Natasha gets brutally raped and tortured. The Avengers seek help from someone they least expect. Who else but Loki could understand her pain? He had his mouth sewn shut, after all.
1. Mission Gone Wrong

_Warning: Graphic and detailed descriptions of sadistic rape and torture. There's also strong language and some animal cruelty. Not for the squeamish or easily offended! The warning only applies for this chapter. Later chapters will only have some profanity. Otherwise, enjoy. Not the rape, of course. Enjoy, you know, the story. :P Lotasha, BlackFrost, whatever it's called...I ship them! [Gum]_

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**Chelsea Grin  
Mission Gone Wrong**

**Chelsea Grin, also known as the Glasgow Smile or Cheshire Cat Smile. A torture technique involving cuts extending from both corners of the lips to create the appearance of an unnaturally wide smile. Famous examples: the Joker from Batman and the Black Dahlia. ~Various online sources**

Joffrey Angus. Also known as Jolly Joff. Infamous and internationally known serial killer. Born in Glasgow, Scotland. Committed crimes in Scotland, England and Wales (pretty much the entire United Kingdom). Mostly known for kidnapping, butchering and _eating_ children. Also involved in drug and human trafficking. Definitely a threat in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s eyes. A threat that was to be quickly eliminated, not just in the face of S.H.I.E.L.D. but in the face of human society.

There was one thing missing from the S.H.I.E.L.D. data file, however. Joffrey was a fighter. A really good fighter. Not to mention extremely clever. Natasha Romanoff, top agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and former superspy for Soviet Russia, realized this too late.

By the time she had painfully stirred, she realized that she had been heavily sedated. Her head had throbbed ruthlessly, like a sledgehammer slamming into her skull at each second. Her stomach too had pains, to the point that she had felt nauseated. Most of all, her legs _hurt_. Lances of pain shot up her limbs as she tried to move them. She grimaced and struggled to look down. Her legs were tightly strapped to each leg of the chair. The wood pressed hard against her shins. The ropes cut into the flesh of her calves Her breath hitched in her throat upon seeing the terrible bruises on her ankles.

"The infamous Black Widow...just like a fly in the web without her legs and sting."

Joffrey's taunting voice, tinged with his native Scottish accent, filled the small, dark room. Natasha scrunched her eyes shut from the headache. She stifled a groan. She sucked in a small gasp as it dawned on her.

'How does he know who I am?'

"Those legs of yours are too dangerous, little spider. Doing ankle locks on you was the first thing I did after I knocked you out with some good ole chloroform."

She has been in the situation countless times: stuck to a chair, forced to listen to her foes' taunts and playing the victim. But unlike those times when she had been successful in busting out and kicking ass, Natasha was out of luck now.

"I saw what you did to Butch and Francis. I ain't happy, lass."

Her brow furrowed in mixed pain and confusion. Butch and Francis...must be his two pitbulls. Through her foggy and drugged mind, she finally remembered what had happened shortly before she was captured.

She had infiltrated Joffrey's hideout with little effort and fuss. She remembered the dull walls, the run-down furniture, the stink of old food and clothes. She remembered the stove, the big, old and outdated kind that connected to the chimney. She had opened it and brushed her fingers through the ashes. Buried under the pile of gray dust was a piece of fabric dotted with little Care Bears. A chill had run down her spine. A young girl's underwear.

_Arf! Arf!_

For an instant she jolted and tensed. Then she relaxed when she realized the sounds came from outside. Natasha quietly walked over. Along the way she spotted the kitchen counter. Marked with deep, slashing cuts, all from a butcher knife she saw next. Her attention shifted to the partially open window. Moving to the side, she leaned over and carefully peeked through the dirty glass.

Two large and white pitbulls fought furiously over some measly and bloody scraps of flesh and bone. Their spikes collars jingled as they clawed and bit each other. Natasha peered at the bones between their teeth. They were small, white...too clean to be typical rawhide...

A cold wave of dread overwhelmed her body. She returned to the kitchen and drew out a pair of steak knives. Filled with cold, murderous rage, she boldly stepped into the yard and flung the knives with deadly force.

The pitbulls were too busy at their meal of human flesh to see her coming. They reeled back from the blades that flew through their heads. They died without a sound, which wouldn't be possible if Natasha stuck to her preferred way of killing with guns. She surveyed her quick and clean kills. The knives were buried deep into the dogs' skulls, up to the handles. Blood ran down to make clean red lines that seemed to bisect their heads.

She decided to move on to her true objective.

Just when she was seized by a large, strong man who smothered her with a rag. The chloroform knocked her out, making her world fade to black.

Natasha snapped out of her thoughts when Joffrey made a rough, dissatisfied sigh. "It'll be hard for me to find replacements. No dog can finish leftovers and pick them clean better than my two boys."

Natasha curled her lip in disgust. "I don't believe it. I've heard about a six-year old girl who disappeared from Edinburgh. I checked the stove and the kitchen counter..."

She squeezed her eyes shut. It was one thing to read it off a file. But to see the evidence for herself was another thing entirely. "You cut her up so she could fit in the stove...you cooked her and ate her...then you fed the rest of her to the dogs...you're a _monster_."

"Yeah. I get that a lot. The media just loves me. So does S.H.I.E.L.D."

Natasha tried to mask her surprise. Joffrey scrutinized her. She found it hard to keep steady under the combined effects of his gaze and the drugs.

"Does that name mean anything to you, lass? Is that who you work for?"

Natasha didn't answer. She laid back in her chair, suppressing the urge to vomit. She didn't feel so good. Ignoring him was difficult.

"Don't take me for a fool. _You_ know that _I_ know you are Black Widow. S.H.I.E.L.D. must've really worked hard to remove you from the public eye. A commendable effort, but not good enough."

Joffrey paced around her like a wolf stalking its prey. Natasha laid still, with her head hunched and her back pressed against the chair. The headache still didn't go away.

"Must feel pretty good about yourself, huh? One of Earth's Mightiest Heroes. An Avenger!"

She winced as his mocking voice rang in her pounding ears. After the Chitauri catastrophe in New York, the Avengers unsurprisingly became famous overnight. Public attention had been immense and relentless. Tony, Steve, Thor and Bruce took on the brunt of it, while S.H.I.E.L.D. took on the painstaking task of removing any trace of their two best agents on every form of media available. Her heart sunk at the thought of Clint.

"Where's the arrow-boy, that partner of yours? Isn't he usually with you? Guess not this time."

"He will come," she retorted defensively. Almost desperately.

Joffrey shrugged. "Oh, he probably will. But not before I'm through with you."

Suddenly he stopped in front of her. He walked forward and tipped her chin upwards so that their gazes met. Joffrey was actually quite good-looking. Trimmed brown hair with a hint of auburn, defined jaw, bright blue eyes, around thirty years old...he looked strong and handsome. If only Natasha was unaware of his disturbing criminal record. Not to mention sociopathic tendencies and a reputation for pedophilia.

He leaned forward until he was too close for Natasha's liking. Two or three inches more and his beard could scratch against her skin. She could smell the tobacco from his lips and clothes. Joffrey held up his hand to touch her. A rough, calloused thumb brushed against her plump lips. Slowly and gently, he traced the contours of her jaw. He moved up to her cheekbones. His hand snaked behind her ear and up to brush at her curls. He eyed her like prized meat. Like something to eat. Natasha suppressed a shudder.

"You know, I love the color red." he purred. "I'm curious...is this your natural hair color?"

"Fuck off!" Natasha spat.

"Didn't think you would answer my question. Let's see, shall we?"

He moved his hands down her neck and past her collarbones. She jerked her shoulders back and away from his invasive touch. "Get your filthy hands off of me, you sick son of a bitch!"

Joffrey clicked his tongue in disapproval. "My, what a temper. You're a hypocrite to say how dirty my hands are when your mouth isn't any better. I've got to do something about that."

He abruptly drew away from her and stuck his hand in an old drawer at the corner of the room. His hand remerged with a knife. He slowly stalked towards her with a mad gleam in his eye.

"Let's put a smile on that face."

He grabbed her roughly by the chin so that the back of her head pressed firmly against the top of the chair. Natasha's stomach lurched as she watched the tip of the blade hover just over the right corner of her lips.

'Oh God…what is he going to do to me?'

Her body jerked as the knife cut through her skin. Joffrey carved the blade in a slow, agonizing upward sweep, towards her right ear. The knife was in to the point she could feel the tip of the blade going along her _teeth_. She tasted blood seeping into her tongue. In spite of it all, she did not open her mouth to scream. She dared not to. Joffrey removed the blade, and gave her a look of mocking dissatisfaction.

"No screaming? You're no fun. Let's try the other side."

He did the same cut from the left corner of her lips up to her cheek. Still she did not open her mouth. She sat there, back arched, muscles tensed, fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut. She was forced to swallow her blood to prevent her from screaming. Natasha had an unusually high degree of pain tolerance. But what she felt from Joffrey's cuts were excruciating. It took every fiber of her being, every ounce of her willpower not to open her mouth and scream bloody murder.

After what seemed like ages, Joffrey removed the blood-stained blade and stepped back, as if surveying a new piece of artwork he just finished.

"Looking good, if I do say so myself. But I guess I'll have to find another way to open that pretty mouth of yours."

He knelt down and had the blade hovering close to her legs. More specifically, the ropes binding her.

'Does he mean...to rape me?'

Natasha saw this as her golden opportunity. Perhaps a near impossible yet slim chance of escape. At this point, she was willing to take any chances. She tensed her muscles, bracing herself for the right moment. He cut at the ropes with a few strong slashes. She moved as soon as the ropes gave way. She rammed him with a vicious headbutt. He merely grunted while she made a muffled cry behind bloodied lips. It hurt way more than she expected. Her legs buckled as she succumbed to her bruised ankles underneath. He laughed as he watched her struggling to rise on her feet. She remained on the dirty floor. At the sound of his laughter, anger boiled inside her. She lunged forward to grab at his legs. Joffrey's boot hit the left side of her jaw and she reeled back.

"Feisty, aren't you lass? Then let's get right on to it! Come on, bitch. I want to hear you scream!"

He kicked her violently in the stomach. Natasha reeled back and shut her eyes, but did not open her mouth. He continued to kick and assault her with his heavily built boot. But to no avail. Finally, he grabbed an empty beer bottle by the handle. He struck it over the old drawer and broke the bottle in half. The frayed glass of the half he held glistened in the dim light, resembling spikes on a mace. Her eyes widened as he shoved apart her thighs. He flashed her a wicked grin. And plunged it right between her legs.

Natasha threw back her head and screamed. No amount of discipline could train her to endure such hell. She wailed in agony as Joffrey continued his relentless assault. He jabbed and twisted the broken bottle until blood went up to his elbow. Natasha's screams made the cuts across her face split open. Blood blossomed across her face and filled her mouth. She choked under her own blood. She turned her head to cough and spit it out. She gasped hungrily for air, but her tongue only tasted what seemed like liquid metal.

Joffrey simply sat back and watched. His eyes glinted with sadistic glee.

"Oh sorry...can't breathe, huh? Here, let me help you."

He seized a fistful of her hair and flung her so that she flew forward and skidded on the ground. She was curled up like a fetus, crying and clutching her thighs. Her hand quickly became drenched with dark red blood. Joffrey gazed at his arms and hands in wonder, almost reveling at her blood.

"So much red! I like this! It's…arousing."

Natasha felt sick. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. This guy actually gets turned on at the sight of blood.

"Normally, anyone I kidnap ends up getting diced up and eaten, then the leftovers go to Butch and Francis. But you're too pretty for that. Besides, I want to see you broken more than anything. You think you're so tough, being a girl with guns and able to kill my dogs. Think again. You're nothing!"

Natasha could barely hear him. She was too immersed in pain to care for what he had to say. Tears continued to run down her face, to mingle with the blood all over her torn mouth and cheeks. Then she heard Joffrey removing his belt. The sound of the simple click was like a bell tolling in her ears. It snapped her back to reality, the harsh, dark and dank reality of the room she was trapped in, and the reality she was too helpless to prevent. She saw his denim pants fall to the floor. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut.

'No…this can't be happening. No, no, no…oh God, please…! NO!'

Natasha couldn't do anything to stop him from stripping her clothes. She laid bare and bleeding before him, like raw meat on a cutting board. That's probably what she was to him. More tears welled in her eyes as Joffrey thrusted into her. Natasha's body rocked back and forth. Her eyes settled on the drawer. She noticed every detail, down to the knobs on the wood and the various knick knacks partially stowed in the compartments. She continued to stare at them, trying to take her attention off of the living nightmare. Finally, Joffrey had enough.

"Ach, I'm getting bored with you. I'd better head back upstairs and throw away my dogs. Stay there and be a good girl. Shouldn't be too hard for you."

He laughed as he pulled up his pants and swung open the door.

And with that, he left Natasha alone in the basement, under a pool of blood. Pain was beyond her senses now. Natasha felt utterly numb. She breathed doggedly through her nose. She closed her eyes and struggled to take her mind away from this godforsaken place. Her mind flew away from Scotland and back to the United States. Back to her teammates...Tony, the multi-million alcoholic with an ego the size of Russia. Bruce, whose gentle compassion posed a jarring contrast to the near-invincible Other Guy. Thor, the god of thunder and Pop-Tarts. Steve, the good captain and who Tony calls the "freedom in tight pants." And Clint, her partner in crime, confidant, close friend...her family. She almost laughed at the thought. It seemed absurd…to think that a ragtag band of misfits and freaks would be the closest thing to what she could call a family. Yet here she was, thinking of each of them fondly as if they were her blood relatives.

Natasha felt herself slipping away. Her head felt light and dizzy, as if she was suspended in air. The blood all around her became heavy and sticky. She couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. Whether she would die or not, she didn't know. Before darkness overtook her, she wondered if they were thinking of her the same time she was thinking of them. It sounded nice…to think that it could be true.

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_So there's chapter 1. I didn't want to focus so much on the sexual aspect of the rape. Writing porn was NOT my intention. I wanted to focus on the psychological part of it, and how truly damaging and horrifying rape can be when taken to that level. I looked a lot into serial killers and criminology as research for this fic. I also watched a couple of Criminal Minds episodes. I hope I haven't lost my sanity in the process! And yes, I just had to slip in a Joker line for Joffrey making the Chelsea Grin._

_For all you Game of Thrones fans, you know perfectly well where the name Joffrey comes from, and why the one in this story appropriately suits the name. :3 I would appreciate it a lot if you could fave, review, or make a link for Tumblr. :D [Gum]_


	2. Too Late to Apologize

_Wow! 311 hits, 9 faves, 17 alerts and 13 reviews in one day! Thanks everyone! Some of you may have noticed the Watchmen inspiration from the previous chapter. Rorschach's handling of the kidnapping was such a chilling scene, and I loved it. I'm sorry if Chapter 1 had shaken up or disturbed anybody. I'm squeamish about gore myself. But only in live-action movies, for some weird reason. I don't have a problem with it in books, graphic novels or cartoons. Not even in surgical videos, since it's my dream to become a surgeon. I promise that the rest won't be nearly as bad. This is angst, not horror. :) [Gum]_

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**Chelsea Grin (2)**  
**Too Late to Apologize**

**"Of all the things I hid from you**  
**I cannot hide the shame**  
**And I pray someone, something will**  
**come, to take away the pain."**  
**~Brother Bear, "No Way Out" by Phil Collins**

Clint Barton thought he was going to die from sheer anxiety.

He was in the Quinjet, with his fellow Avenger teammates. All save for Tony Stark—he remained in the States, acting as reconnaissance. Bruce Banner and Thor Odinson sat in the seats across from him. Their faces were filled with silent worry. No one spoke; only the rapid thrum of the Quinjet's rotor blades and engine could be heard as Steve piloted it from the cockpit. A fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. pilot manned the dashboard next to him. His name was Ricardo Mena, the very same young man who was thrown out of his fighter jet by a murderously angry Hulk. Needless to say, he was among the brave few who didn't mind sharing a Quinjet with Bruce. He also knew Natasha relatively well, and jumped at going on a mission to see if she was okay.

The relative silence was broken by Clint's question. "How much longer to Glasgow, Captain?"

For the umpteenth time, Steve replied with sure patience. "Almost there, Agent Barton. Give or take twenty minutes."

Clint angrily shook his head and huffed an agitated sigh. The Quinjet flew closer to Scotland, hidden in the midst of the night sky. Half an hour ago they flew over Wales and England. The longest flight had been from the United States to France. Clint figured the trip from Paris to Scotland would be much faster. But time seemed to stretch on longer as Clint sat anxiously. His head hurt from the battle of conflicting thoughts.

Nat's going to be fine. She's done solo missions a million times before. _This mission required two of us for a reason._

She'll get the job done. She always does. _Even if she dies doing so? And if she does, it'll be all your fault._

A wave of guilt, accompanied by a sense of helplessness, consumed him. He should've known that she went off to complete the mission alone. Yesterday, Director Nick Fury had made orders to convert the confidential mission into a full-blown rescue, to retrieve Natasha from Scotland. During the briefing, he handed everyone a duplicate of the case file originally meant for only Clint and Natasha. There was a period of silence as everyone save for Clint scanned the information on Joffrey.

"This chap seems like a real charmer," Tony had remarked. He was silenced by a cold glare from Clint.

Thor's brow furrowed and he frowned, making him look serious and brooding like his father. "What a barbaric man. How could a human be capable of such crimes? And enjoy them?"

Bruce gave Clint an incredulous look. "You and Natasha actually handle these kind of people every day?"

Fury folded his hands behind his back and assessed the team with his one eye as he talked. "Joffrey Angus is the kind of man we don't normally get under our radar. People with crimes like his are usually left to the CIA or FBI. Or in his case, the Scottish police. That has changed recently, ever since we've had reports of his tampering with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s digital property. How he got his hands on it, we don't know. Now we suspect he might have Agent Romanoff under hostage, due to her...prolonged disappearance and failure to report back to us...So he is our problem now."

Clint's face tightened at the mention of Natasha's "failure to report." She had always been efficient and diligent, adhering to S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol better than even those who served under the organization longer than her. He could even sense Fury's hesitation at referring to Natasha's situation as such.

Fury turned to Clint, who sat closest to the Director. "Agent Barton, you were the man originally tasked for this mission. We want to hear your input for the rest of the team to hear."

Clint slowly drew back into his seat. He was reluctant to talk. "Agent Romanoff and I were supposed to go together and eliminate Joffrey." he said quietly. "We were booked for the assignment that was to be done after an attack on Burmese terrorists. The mission contained information for our eyes only. He's an extremely dangerous criminal that couldn't be allowed to mess with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s property any longer. But we..."

Clint looked up to see his teammates staring back, curiously waiting for him to finish his sentence. He decided he just wanted to get to the point.

"_She_ took off on her own," he finally said. "without me knowing."

His teammates didn't ask why, and he was silently thankful for that.

"What's the change in plan now?" Steve asked. "You aren't going to actually make us kill the guy, right?"

Fury shook his head. "No, that would be a smart idea. Especially if you're moving in as a group. There's bound to be a risk of media exposure. Never mind about assassinating a serial killer. We need to make sure one of our own isn't getting killed instead."

Everyone seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation. Even Tony looked dead serious. Fury stared down at them from his authoritative height. "The Avengers are hereby deployed to return Agent Romanoff back to the United States. And if possible, bring in Joffrey Angus alive."

Everyone nodded in silent, determined affirmation. Clint had expected some harsh words from Fury. Some kind of reprimand or scolding for failing to accompany Natasha on their latest mission. But the Director did nothing of the sort. Out of the corner of his single eye, he must've noticed the way Clint hunched over the glass table, looking like a wounded man.

When Fury had dismissed them, Clint was the last to rise and make his way to the door. He met eyes with the S.H.I.E.L.D. director. Even then Fury made no move or said anything to reprimand him. Clint was surprised when the director put a hand on his shoulder. The only thing he said to Clint was "Bring her home, Barton."

Clint's mind rewinded again as he tried to remember what had happened in the first place. The skirmish in Burma. The mission that had triggered it all, just three days ago, had been a success. Barely. He and Natasha had exchanged no words during their flight back to the States. But soon as the debriefing with Director Fury had ended, and the pair of assassins walked down the hall, Clint exploded.

"_What the hell, Natasha_? Explain that little stunt you tried to pull off!"

"Someone had to plant the bomb. It's either all or nothing. You of all people should know what I had to do." She had continued down the hallway without a second glance back. Clint knew how to catch up to her brisk speed-walking. He followed after her like a hound. He would not allow himself to be ignored.

"Taking down an entire pagoda with you in it? I don't think so! I understand that Burma's basically hot water because of its military dictatorship, and it's loaded with nasty fighters that just want to see the whole system burn down. Especially if S.H.I.E.L.D. happens to be included on their hit list. But you didn't have to take such measures to wipe out that band of rogues."

"Why do my actions come as a surprise to you all of a sudden, Clint? You and I know very well that the mission comes first."

"Well, you're a close second."

Natasha halted before she rounded another corner. He stared at her back for a few, quiet seconds. Finally she turned around to face him. He couldn't tell what she was thinking. Finally, she said ominously, "Clint, that kind of thinking is dangerous."

"I didn't spare you just so you can throw yourself into danger like that!"

"What are you getting at?"

Clint hesitated. Had he crossed the line? He didn't know how to continue this on a strictly professional level. Normally it wasn't hard. They were more than fellow agents. More like best friends who trusted each other more than anything. Together they held a lifetime of secrets and confessions between each other. But this…he had no idea how to get this across. "What I'm trying to say is...you're not a burden to me. At all. If I put the mission first, I wouldn't haul my ass and go out my way to look after you. Damn it, Tasha...can't you see? I care about you."

He hoped his sincere words struck home. But it didn't seem to placate her anger.

"You disobeyed orders and didn't pull the trigger...just so you could have me at your side? Like some token? You did it for _love_?" She spat out the last word.

"Tasha-"

"I expect more out of you, Barton. You don't sound like the man I have always respected and admired."

Clint made an inward cringe. He was so used to the privilege of first-name basis that her words were like a blow to him. He hated it whenever she addressed him as Barton. She hadn't said that since they first met, when Clint had her at arrowpoint. He almost felt betrayed. That's why he had been so reluctant to confess. He was afraid his emotions would endanger their partnership, friendship, and possibly something more...He was afraid she wouldn't take it well. And his worst fears were coming true.

"You know what? Forget about the stupid mission." He said heatedly. "It hasn't change things, Natasha. I know how you grew up learning to distrust everyone and everything, ever since you knew how to hold a gun…but has our relationship killed the two of us yet? On the contrary…I saved your life! I saved you years ago in Russia, and I saved you just three days ago!"

She nodded slowly and sighed. "True…I'm still alive thanks to you. But I stayed with S.H.I.E.L.D. because I still owe a debt. I'm not a saint like Steve Rogers. Being an Avenger doesn't make me a hero. I was salvaged by your superiors so they could use me as they see fit, until the time comes that they no longer need my service. That is all."

He felt his heart sink in hopeless dismay. "Again with the debts? You talk about me and S.H.I.E.L.D. as if we're the KGB all over again. I'm not talking about service and business and negotiations. I'm talking about—how I…"

_'How much I really, really care about you.'_

He struggled to find the right words, but he couldn't. But Natasha knew exactly what he was meaning to say. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Clint…I don't want to go through this again."

He knew what she was referring to. She had only mentioned her ex-husband once, but Clint still remembered the day she confided with him. His name had been Alexei Shostakov, champion test pilot of Soviet Russia. After a brief marriage, he was allegedly killed in an accident, prompting Natasha to train with the Red Room because her country was all she had left. And that was how she came to be, becoming Black Widow. But that wasn't the end. Alexei had actually survived, so he could undergo his own life of secret training to become the Red Guardian, Russia's response to Captain America. It was all a ruse to mold Natasha into a cold-hearted liar and killer. This realization led to her defection from Russia and into the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D. Alexei had become her enemy, and Natasha had embarked on her most difficult mission: to kill him with her own hands. She told all this to Clint with a detached voice, with no sign of any kind of sentimentality. But he had looked into her eyes and saw something else. Seeing the pain she was trying to hide had been unbearable. They never talked about Alexei again.

Until now. Natasha shook her head. "If we keep going on like this…sharing a close friendship with you…it would kill me to lose you one day. That's why I cannot, and will not, ever love again."

Her eyes hardened when she looked up to him. "I don't think I should be working with you anymore. Your words have exponentially increased the risk of getting compromised. It won't be safe for both of us if our partnership continues."

Clint's heart wrenched. Just when he caught a glimpse beneath her mask of ice upon mentioning Alexei, she assumed her façade in a quick, ruthless flash. "No, Tasha…you can't do that…"

"I believe I can. If I inform Director Fury of anything that jeopardizes our professions, he will see it fit to make arrangements."

"Why does it have to come to this? Don't you know how much you mean to me? How could I ever go back to the way I was: a cold killer with no heart and room for love? Before I met you?"

Her voice came out as quiet and chilled as the winter of her homeland. "Then you could have saved yourself the trouble. You should've killed me when you had the chance."

Clint looked as if she struck him. She turned on her heel and tore her cold green gaze away. He didn't make any move to catch up with her this time. He had been so tempted to call her name, run after her, or both to bring her back so he could apologize for making her say such a thing. But he didn't. And he couldn't.

Now he was beating himself for being such an idiot. Steve glanced behind him, and he didn't miss Clint's deeply troubled expression. He switched to auto-pilot. He climbed to the back and put a firm yet sympathetic hand on Clint's shoulder. "Don't let it get to you. We get in there, find her and get her out."

"I hope it will be that easy." He turned to Steve. "Can I take over for a little bit? You look tired."

"Agent Mena can do it."

"No, I will." Clint insisted. "Please."

The captain took note of his tone and finally nodded. "Sure...Thanks a lot, Agent Barton. I appreciate it."

Steve leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes to take a brief nap. Clint climbed up to the cockpit and took the wheel. He needed something, anything, to take his mind off of his mingled anxiety and guilt. He knew exactly where he was going. He had the case file memorized, including the coordinates and relative location of Joffrey's supposed hiding place. He also took note of the criminal's profile.

He gripped the dashboard until his knuckles turned white. His lips tightened into a thin, hard line. 'God…please let her be okay.'

It was almost 1:00 AM when the Quinjet arrived at Glasgow. But none of the Avengers felt remotely tired. Worry and concern for their teammate was all they could think about.

As soon as they landed, Clint yanked off the headphones and climbed out to join the rest, who were ready to leave the jet. Ricardo opened the door for them.

"I'm going down too," Steve said. "Agent Mena, keep watch of the Quinjet. Hopefully we will be back soon."

Ricardo snapped a salute. "Yes sir."

Clint led the way, with his teammates closely behind him. The snapshot of Joffrey's suspected hideout was clear in his mind, and he was determined to find it quickly. Glasgow was the largest city in Scotland and the third most populous in the United Kingdom...it struck him as looking and feeling somewhat similar to New York City.

They landed in the more rundown sector of Glasgow. Evidence of crime and poverty were clear on the buildings and streets. The copious amount of neon-colored graffiti was enough to rival the street lights overhead. The nighttime setting made the place all the more shadier. Eventually Clint stopped at a small, decrepit house in the middle of an equally small and decrepit urban complex.

"Lights are still on," Steve muttered.

They slowly crept through the yard with firearms out. The mission didn't call for a bow and arrows and a shield. Only Thor still wielded his signature weapon, Mjolnir. His sharpened hearing detected sounds from the house.

"I hear something," he whispered. "It sounds like someone is moving about the room closest to us."

"That would be the kitchen," Steve replied. "On my count, we barge in all at once."

Everyone huddled near the door, crouched low and ready to move.

"One, two...three!"

Clint was the first through the door. Joffrey was setting down a pair of large black trash bags when he turned at the sudden sound of a break-in. Surprise appeared on his face, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came. It was almost as if the criminal had been expecting them.

"Cupid. How you doing?"

Clint didn't answer. All he saw was the bloodied knife casually rested against Joffrey's side. That was all he needed to know. He lunged forward and seized Joffrey by his oversized collar. He slammed him against the wall till the criminal dangled a few inches off the floor.

"Where is Natasha Romanoff?" Clint snarled.

Joffrey merely continued to smile. Clint shook him violently.

"Where is she? Where the hell is she? What have you done with her? Answer me, damn it!"

"Agent Barton!"

Steve's shout resounded in the room. Clint ceased shaking Joffrey. But he didn't slacken his grip one bit. Steve walked up next to Clint and carefully sized up the man under the archer's mercy.

Steve turned to Clint with a questioning glance. "Is this him? Joffrey Angus?"

"...Yeah. It's him."

Clint finally shoved the serial killer away. Steve didn't hide his confusion as he warily moved forward to bind Joffrey with hand cuffs. The captain looked even more confused when Joffrey made no movements to struggle and fight. He tore off the holster holding the knife and threw it across the floor. He put a hand on Joffrey's shoulder to roughly shove him down to his knees. The Scottish man only had eyes for Clint.

"Hey, Cupid. You looking for her? She'll be down in the basement, third room to the right, waiting for you."

Clint said nothing. Hatred flared inside him. He spat in Joffrey's direction.

"Agent Barton, go with Thor to the basement." Steve ordered. "Dr. Banner and I will stay up here and cover this area. Let Stark know as soon as you find her."

Clint and Thor descended down the musky stairs. Bruce went about checking every corner of the first floor while Steve kept watch over Joffrey. The serial killer remained where he was, and he laughed scornfully.

"You think I'm lying, Captain Goody Two-Shoes? You'll find her, all right. Whether she's still in one piece, I have no idea."

He laughed again. It sent chills up Steve's spine. The captain looked to Bruce grimly. "Sweep the area. Quickly."

The scientist nervously nodded and resumed his search. He was rummaging near the trash bags when he wrinkled his nose. He took a quick peek, and his face blanched.

"Oh my God...are there _dogs_ in here?"

Clint and Thor climbed down quickly but carefully. Clint pulled out a glock pistol from his holster and scanned his surroundings, vigilant and alert.

"Third room to the right," he muttered.

He dashed down the dimly lit hall, with Thor close behind.

"I hope he isn't lying," the god of thunder said quietly.

Clint's head jerked in a tense nod. He aimed the pistol at the door and kicked at it with his right foot. To their surprise, the door gave way. They coughed from the eruption of dust. Clint lowered his pistol and Thor lowered Mjolnir. Then they looked down.

"Gods…" Thor breathed. Clint swore loudly.

He and Thor froze in utter horror and shock at the sight before them. Natasha was spread out on the floor, naked and bleeding. Her deathly pale skin was a stark contrast to her fiery red hair and the blood all over her body. Clint thought his legs would turn to jelly. He could barely feel himself moving as he tossed the gun away, rushed to her and fell to his knees.

"Nat, oh Nat...what the hell did he do to you?"

He tried to brush her hair away from her face. His fingers came out wet with her blood. His heart wrenched at the sight of the horrific wounds across her lips. The deep cuts stretched from the corner of her lips almost up to her ears. Like a deep, red crescent. It hurt him so much he could barely look.

"Nat, I'm sorry...so, so sorry...I should've gone with you...I'm supposed to watch your back...I'm so sorry!"

His heated apologies fell upon silent ears. Natasha didn't stir. Her eyes remained closed. Only the feeble rise and fall of her chest told him she was barely holding on to her life. Clint didn't even know he was sobbing until he saw tears that had fallen and glistened on Natasha's face. It quickly turned red from the dried blood caked around her mouth and cheeks.

Clint tried to carry her in his arms. But all the strength he had left him. Only numbness, sorrow and pure anger filled his core. He tore away his gaze in an attempt to avert his eyes from the staggering amount of blood around Natasha. He shook and trembled like a leaf, unable to collect and steady himself.

"Let me carry her, Agent Barton," Thor gently offered.

Clint merely nodded and watched as Thor tore off his red cape. He draped it over and around Natasha's body. His huge arms enveloped her pale, limp figure. He held her close to his chest, like he was handling a broken, delicate porcelain doll. A dark red spot quickly pooled and stained Thor's cape, close to where Thor was supporting Natasha's legs. Clint trailed behind Thor as they slowly staggered up the stairs. Steve and Bruce turned to the sounds of their ascending arrival. Their breaths hitched in their throats at the sight. They were paralyzed with horror, unable to speak.

Joffrey's grin grew even wider. "Like my work? I'd say I did good to put a smile on that serious face of hers. A great beaut, ye ken?"

"_Son of a bitch!_"

Clint flew at Joffrey and pummeled him relentlessly with clenched fists. Bound and on his knees, Joffrey could do nothing but reel back and keel over from Clint's blows. But Clint couldn't smash the smugness out of his face. The archer's fists quickly became slippery with blood as he proceeded to break Joffrey's nose and split his lip. Steve and Bruce had to step in and stop Clint together. Clint staggered back, his arms restrained by the other two men. He panted heavily and angrily like a raging bull.

"_Let me go! I'm gonna kill him!_" he bellowed.

"No, you will not!" Steve shouted back. "Have some sense, Agent Barton! S.H.I.E.L.D. needs him alive, remember? We need to take him into custody. They'll decide what to do with him."

He cast a sad glance at Natasha. "Most importantly, we have to get her medical attention. Fast."

Clint also turned to look. No one said anything as tears slipped past his eyes. His face crumpled as he slowly sunk to his knees, unable to control his quiet sobs.

Steve sighed wearily. "Bruce, call Stark. Tell him we need a helicopter over here as soon as possible."

Steve found a rag to tie around Joffrey's mouth, so that the blood would stop flowing and he would stop talking. Bruce made the report through his phone. Tony's voice came in loud and urgent.

"What's up? You found her?"

"Yes...We did."

Bruce told him everything, and Tony didn't interrupt once.

Finally, Tony replied with a hushed tone, "I'll see what I can do."

The Avengers waited with bated breath. They did not want to remain in the house for very long. Thor continued to hold Natasha. He showed no signs of weariness, nor a desire to set her down again on the cold and dirty floor. The silence was finally broken by Tony calling from Bruce's phone.

"I relayed your report to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. They're communicating overseas with Scotland's medical emergency system. A helicopter is on its way."

Natasha was still swaddled in Thor's cape when she was quickly but carefully loaded onto the stretcher just 15 minutes after Tony's call. Even the paramedics' eyes widened upon looking at Natasha's face.

"There's no way we can fly her all the way back to America," a paramedic had explained. "She has already lost so much blood. We will provide her emergency care for a time. Eventually it'll be safe to transport her overseas."

Steve had replied on behalf of the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. "Thank you so much for your service. We trust that she is in good hands."

The good captain had to remain behind to take care of Joffrey. The rest of the team gave out their hearts for him-he was given the burden of handling that unpleasant task. Steve took along the stash of questionable items Bruce had assembled for him-including computer discs, paperwork and all sorts of files. He didn't bother to inspect them. He would leave that to SHIELD investigations back home.

Joffrey continued to show no efforts of struggle as he willingly allowed Steve to escort him to the Quinjet. The captain turned for one last look at the medical helicopter before entering the jet.

Thor, Bruce and Clint boarded the helicopter. They sat inside the cramped space without complaint; the helicopter was so packed that their legs pressed against the sides of Natasha's stretcher. Bruce offered to help the two paramedics who were dabbing the blood from Natasha's face and wrapping gauze over her wound. Thor seemed to wince as they slipped in an IV through Natasha's wrist. Finally they wrapped a blanket over Thor's cape to keep her warm and covered.

"Thank God she's not hemophiliac." Clint said lowly. "She's a Romanov...that royal family who last ruled Russia. Hemophilia runs through their line."

"What is hemophilia?" Thor asked.

This time Bruce explained. "When we get injured and bleed, blood gets clotted and the bleeding stops. Under normal circumstances, that is. Hemophilia is a rare genetic disease where such a thing doesn't happen."

"So one with hemophilia can bleed to death at the slightest injury."

Bruce nodded. "Exactly. But like Clint said, Natasha doesn't have it. She's just a carrier. Hemophilia is much more common in males."

Thor stared at Natasha grimly. "I see. Then it is truly a stroke of luck and good fortune that we found her alive."

Clint clenched his jaw as his eyes settled on Natasha's still form. 'We were too late to save her from looking like that. And I was too late to say sorry...'

Meanwhile, Steve watched the helicopter take off before he ordered Ricardo to fly down the opposite direction, towards the United States. The captain sat across from the criminal, who was still gagged and bound. After a few minutes, Steve reached out to remove the rag.

"Are you all right?" he asked tersely.

Joffrey shrugged. "More or less," he muttered from bloodied lips.

Steve rose and opened a compartment overhead. He pulled out a recording device. S.H.I.E.L.D. would need answers from Joffrey, especially when it came to the mysteries of acquiring S.H.I.E.L.D. possessions...and subduing one of their best agents so quickly. Deep down, he didn't want to do this. He would much rather board the helicopter, to be there for his injured comrade. Only his strong sense of duty suppressed his wishful thinking. He had to get this done, for the benefit of S.H.I.E.L.D. and possibly two entire countries.

Steve eyed Joffrey carefully as he pressed the red recording button. "All right Mr. Angus...start talking."

* * *

_To be honest, it was really hard to set up a scenario involving Clint and Natasha arguing. After all, they're close assassin buddies who normally trust each other. So I hope I haven't made them too OOC... The Alexei Shostakov story is based on the old comics, so it's kind of canon. The possibility of Natasha being related to the Romanov family is also from the comics. R&R and Tumblring is appreciated! :D [Gum]_


	3. A Friend In Need

**Chelsea Grin (3)**  
**A Friend In Need**

**"True friends never get in your way unless you happen to be going down."**  
**~Arnold H. Glasow**

Joffrey barely looked at the recording device. Steve had never seen someone look so calm, given that he had handcuffs and dried blood all over his face and shirt. "What do you want to talk about, Cap?"

Steve gave the serial killer a steady, unflinching gaze. "First and foremost...how and why did you manage to get S.H.I.E.L.D. property in your possession? I've noticed that those discs contain confidential information. They're also on the papers you've printed."

"That's something you people happened to miss: I'm a killer _and _a hacker. Besides bargaining with drugs and kids, I also sell information. You could make a big profit from that, ye ken...trading away dangerous information for a high price. I knew something wasn't right the moment news of the Avengers carried over to Scotland. Besides the fab four, I suspected there was more to your dream team than meets the eye. Imagine the money I could've made if I finished compiling and readying my information for the press."

"Not your information. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s." Steve replied firmly. He said nothing more so he wouldn't happen to slip out any more information about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attempts to cover their agents. He was the one asking questions, not giving the answers. He also wasn't keen on sitting through Joffrey rambling about computer jargon, the technical breakdown on how he had extracted the information. The bottom line was that Joffrey did it for money.

"All right, let's get down to recent events." Steve continued. "When we broke into your house and searched the first floor, why did Dr. Banner find _two dogs _in those trash bags?"

Joffrey put up his cuffed hands in defense. He looked almost sad. "I didn't do it, trust me. Why would I go and kill my two best friends? The ginger gone and stuck knives in their heads. You know how irritating it is? Taking out trash I didn't make?"

Steve exhaled a big sigh. "Why do you do these things, Mr. Angus? What's your motivation? What drives you to commit these crimes and torture Agent Romanoff?"

Joffrey's forlorn expression vanished, with his usual indifference back in place. "I'll let you in on something, Cap...I love to chop up things. Ever since I was a wee tyke in the orphanage, all I did was play with me knife. I went from chopping bugs to chopping meat at a slaughterhouse. Made a fine living as a butcher, I did. Happy for a while, too. But I got bored. Chopping up the same old meat from the same old animal every day...it just wasn't fun anymore, ye ken."

Joffrey's lips began bleeding again as he grinned. "I started doing it to the kids. They're just like meat off of a cow or pig...tender and easy to cut. Just more fun to catch."

Steve suppressed a shudder. It was getting harder to mask his horror and disgust towards the Scottish criminal.

"I must say that the little Russian princess is my most entertaining catch yet! After reading up on what she can do, I honestly didn't think I'd be able to pull off the challenge. It was a bonus and good luck on my part that Cupid didn't show up with her."

"That leads me to another question," Steve interjected. "How did you capture Agent Romanoff so quickly?"

"I did my homework. I also snooped in on my case file. I knew S.H.I.E.L.D. had its eye on me, and I knew they were coming. I knew about those killer thighs of hers...and those Widow Bites on her wrists. While she was busy taking out my pitbulls, I came in from the yard. She must've been so riled up she didn't notice me closing in. I grabbed her from behind and stuffed her face with a rag soaked with chloroform. Not enough to kill her, just enough to do the job. But I know from experience that people with chloroform smothered on their faces tend to kick and struggle. The Widow Bites took care of that problem. I grabbed hold of her arms and made her paralyze herself. After she got knocked out, I broke her ankles and dragged her downstairs. The rest is history."

Steve's eyes widened for a split second. 'He broke her ankles too?'

"Do you have a grudge against Agent Romanoff? I mean..." the Captain was reluctant to say it. "You could have killed her."

"A grudge? No, nothing like that. And what's the fun in killing her so quickly? I like to play with the food I catch."

Steve heard enough. He switched off the recorder. "We'll stop there. Until we arrive in the United States, sit tight and don't try anything funny."

"Yes sir," Joffrey replied dryly.

"One more question, though."

"Sure. Shoot me, Cap."

"Do you care what might happen to you next? After I hand you over to court?"

"I would say...no. My work is done. Your precious Russian princess is broken. I could care less if your country gives me the death penalty. I've been getting awfully bored anyway."

Steve truly couldn't understand the way this guy's mind worked. Joffrey disregarded his own life, along with many other victims that had fallen prey under his knife. Steve hoped to get Joffrey out of his hands as quickly as possible, as soon as the Quinjet reaches the States. He thought of Natasha next, and he sent a silent, fervent prayer to God. He prayed that God would have mercy on her and give her the strength to live. It was all he could do for a time.

* * *

Back in Scotland, Thor, Clint and Bruce waited anxiously in the ER of Glasgow's Royal Alexandra Hospital. Some visitors and patients stared, but the three Avengers didn't pay much attention. Bruce leaned forward in his seat, hands clasped together under his forehead. He muttered something in Hindi, some Hindu prayer he picked up from Calcutta. Clint remained rigid, his back straight against his chair, head against the wall and hands close to his sides. He had his eyes closed and didn't move a muscle. Unlike Clint, Thor couldn't bear to sit still. After a few minutes, he exhaled loudly and paced up and down the hallway with wide strides. He never took his eyes off the double doors. After a silent, tense hour, the doors opened to reveal a lone, middle-aged surgeon. The Avengers instantly went over to him. The doctor removed his mask and raised a hand.

"Don't worry...Miss Romanoff is fine. She will live."

The three men made audible sighs of relief. Clint collapsed into a nearby chair and placed shaky hands over his eyes. A choked laugh escaped him. "She's alive...Nat's alive..."

The doctors looked at them curiously. "Who are you to Miss Romanoff, if I may ask?"

The Avengers exchanged momentary glances before Clint spoke up for them. "She's a very good friend of ours. She has no parents and she's all we have."

It was a half truth, because they couldn't afford to tell him that Natasha was a fellow Avenger.

The doctor nodded. "I see. May I speak to whoever is in charge of Miss Romanoff?"

"Of course, Doctor. Hold on." Bruce whipped out his cell phone and dialed a number. As soon as the other line picked up, he spoke. "Tony? This is Bruce. Can you put Director Fury and Captain Rogers on the line as well? The doctor's here to tell us how Natasha's doing."

Bruce put his phone on speaker so they could hear the other two men dialing in.

"This is Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. speaking."

"And this is Captain Steve Rogers speaking."

"Natasha Romanoff works for our organization," Fury said. "How is she?"

The doctor began to explain. "She's alive, but still remains under critical condition. She has deep, curved gashes extending from the corners of her mouth. We spent roughly an hour and ten minutes closing the wounds with sutures. The injuries are deep and severe, so we have her on nasogastric intubation. She can't eat solid foods until the wounds seal properly. She has also has broken ankles and had suffered massive hemorrhage from her abdominal area."

"How long will the stitches remain on her face?"

"21 days at most...given that she won't do anything to further injure her mouth and reopen the cuts."

"And how long will she have the scars?"

The doctor sighed. "Most likely for the rest of her life, to be honest. It has also come to our attention that she had been raped. We found seminal fluid in addition to the shards of glass between her legs."

Clint said nothing as he stiffened and looked as if he had been shot in the gut. Thor and Bruce looked at the doctor with wide, horrified eyes. Tony made a quiet curse from the other line.

The surgeon returned their gazes with sympathetic eyes. "I am truly sorry to say this…Sometime later, we might have to run a pregnancy test-"

"Not necessary," Clint interjected quietly.

Everyone, including the doctor, turned to him with skeptic looks. Clint didn't meet their gazes. "Natasha...is sterile, for reasons I can't say because S.H.I.E.L.D. deems it confidential. But I know for certain... Natasha will _not _get pregnant."

"That's fortunate to hear," the doctor replied. "Then we will cancel the test and leave her under intensive care."

"How long is Natasha staying in Scotland?" Tony asked.

"Until her blood count is stabilized," the doctor said. "At this point, it would be unsafe to have her travel a considerable amount of distance."

"Let me know when she's ready to go home. I can book a private jet to take her and the rest of the Avengers back to the States. You Scots don't have to do a thing."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark. I will inform the hospital administration about your offer."

"Are we allowed to see Natasha now?" Clint pressed.

"The nurses are wheeling her to an intensive care unit room as we speak," the doctor replied. "If you'd like, I can escort you."

"Please, and thank you." Thor said.

The doctor navigated them through the labyrinth of hallways and took an elevator to the next level above. Bruce still had Tony, Steve and Fury on the line. They stopped before a door at the end of the hall, where they just caught a pair of nurses exiting the room.

"She's in here," one of the nurses said in a low voice. "You can come in, but keep it quiet. She's unconscious."

The doctor held the door open while Thor, Clint and Bruce filed in silently. The room was still and dark, save for the dim light of the machines that occupied half of the room. A clean, white hospital bed occupied the center, and in that bed occupied its latest patient.

Natasha, dressed in a loose white hospital gown, laid with her upper body slightly propped up by the reclining section of the bed. Her bandaged feet and ankles protruded from the bedside a little awkwardly. A long feeding tube was tapered to her nose. Her wrist bore an IV that connected to a bag of antibiotic. From the pace of the rhythmic machine beeping, the liquid was pumping in at an alarmingly rapid rate.

Natasha herself appeared to be serene and blank. Her eyelids were closed over without any sign of pain. Her chest and nostrils moved in sync as she breathed quietly and peacefully. It was the ghostly pale complexion that gave away her critical condition. Her skin lacked in the normal healthy pink hue to the point that she had the same paleness as the white bedsheets. And most of all…the scars on her face. Looking at them sent chills running down everyone's spine. The stitches and inflamed red skin appeared to emphasize the carved–in grin. But it was certainly nothing to smile about.

Clint stood next to Natasha on one side, with Thor and Bruce on the other. The doctor respectfully closed the door and left them alone with her. No one said anything for a few minutes. The only things heard were the monotone beep of the heart monitor and the hiss of saline pumping through the IV line and into Natasha's body.

Finally, Thor gently broke the silence. "Natasha...you're at a hospital in Glasgow, where it's safe and warm. The doctor said you were going to be all right."

Bruce looked to him with a skeptic expression. "What are you doing, Thor? She can't hear you."

"I know. But this reminds me of the times I talk to my father whenever he is under the Odinsleep. Unlike my father, she probably cannot hear me in her sleep. Nevertheless, talking to her would give me comfort...and possibly to Natasha as well."

Thor reached out to envelop his big, warm hand over Natasha's small and pale one. "We plead you to come back to us. You are like family to me, like a dear little sister. In Asgard and Midgard alike, society does not take kindly to strong and independent women. You had my fullest respect and admiration from the start. During the battle against the Chitauri, you fought with the strength and bravery worthy enough to earn a place in Valhalla. And I say that with earnest truth. It grieves me to see you broken and fallen. Please use your strength to persevere through this difficult time."

Thor said nothing more, but continued to hold Natasha's hand.

"How about I give it a go?" Tony asked from the other line. Bruce extended the phone so that it was close to Natasha's ear.

"Hey, Nat…" Tony said softly. "I'm really sorry I can't be here with you right now…but I just want to let you know that Pepper and I are really worried." He seemed to pause, then his small laugh came through the phone. "I remember that time I saw you in the gym, doing some martial arts…tai chi, I'm guessing? You slipped into this one pose you kept holding for minutes. I sneaked into the gym, and you didn't blink an eye. I decided I wanted to have a little fun. But I couldn't do anything to break your trance. You looked as if you couldn't see me. Hell, I even blew a balloon and popped it in your face! But you didn't do a thing. I figured if I wasn't going to scare or amuse you, I was going to make you say ouch. I grabbed a boxing glove and was going to feint a punch…when you nailed me to the floor in less than five seconds and looked like you were going to roast me for dinner. What I'm trying to say is…your focus and discipline are astounding. When you put your mind to something, you can do _anything_. I'm willing to bet that if you put your super focus to use, you can get through this. Please get well soon, okay? We're all waiting for our favorite Russian superspy to come home."

Tony sighed and said nothing else for a few seconds. "Bruce? Want a turn to talk?"

"Sure. Thanks, Tony." Bruce looked down at the unconscious woman and said quietly, "I have to admit, Natasha…I'm jealous. You are everything I'm not. I remember you telling me you don't believe in any God." He made a bitter smile. "Funny, isn't it? I've spent two years in India, immersed in the knowledge and practice of spirituality. I bathed in the Ganges River pretty much every day. I passed by temples and holy sanctuaries like I was passing by Starbucks and McDonald's in New York. But I can't even keep on a shirt whenever I get angry. I admire you so much, Natasha. I wish I can achieve the level of self-control and tranquility you have. So please…don't give up. You're too strong for that."

Bruce paused to remove his glasses and wipe a sleeve over his eyes.

"May I speak?" Steve asked. After a brief silence, he continued. "Natasha…you're a soldier and a sister to me. You and I are the same, and yet so different. We grew up as soldiers at opposite ends of the world. We fought for the good of our respective countries. I thought I had it hard…and I was wrong. You told me about your Soviet days. I had friends and loved ones…you didn't have anybody." Steve's steady voice began to waver. "But that's not true anymore. You have teammates who are counting on you to stay strong. Agent Mena also sends his regards. I pray that you recover soon."

After Steve spoke, silence enveloped the room once more. Everyone turned to Clint with expectant eyes. The archer bit his lip. He knew he had to say something. Anything. But just like back then, when Natasha had stormed away from him, he couldn't. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't even bring himself to look at her. It was as if his sin for practically abandoning her was etched on her face. He dared himself to raise his eyes up, and his heart wrenched at the sight. He shook his head numbly.

"I…I don't know what to say…I can't do this…"

Clint turned to leave the room. Thor and Bruce exchanged sympathetic glances. Eventually they too left the room. There was no point in lingering any longer. They said all they could, and Natasha wasn't awake to hear them. It was also late at night, and they needed sleep. As they headed to a nearby motel, they could only hope that they would be heading back to New York soon.

Natasha's blood count elevated to a stable level in 3 days. The Stark private jet arrived with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s medical personnel, who would take care of Natasha during the flight. She was rushed to the Hellicarrier's medical ward as soon as they arrived home. Tony, Steve and Maria Hill all arrived at once. Everyone crowded the tiny ICU room that held Natasha. Everyone, that is, except for Clint. Too wracked with guilt to even lay his eyes upon her, he remained outside, hunched over and staring at his clenched hands.

Maria stared gloomily at all the tubes and wires stuck in her body. "She's going to be okay, right?" she asked in a small voice.

Tony blinked hard and nodded numbly. "Yeah, she will. She's a tough girl. She's gotta be okay." He tightened his lips and swallowed as emotion threatened to overtake him. He turned away with his phone in hand. "I'm gonna call Pepper," he muttered in a thick voice. "She couldn't be here right now because she's busy with things back at the tower."

Everyone quietly filed outside like a funeral procession. Clint didn't look up to see his teammates joining him. No one said anything for a few minutes.

"I shouldn't have let her go on that mission alone." Clint said lowly through clenched teeth. "I was stupid. So, so stupid. _Damn it_!"

He abruptly hit the wall behind him with his fist.

"Agent Barton, please calm down. Maybe you should step outside and take a breather."

At Steve's orders, Clint let out a shaky sigh and walked down the hallway. "Yeah…guess I better do that," he mumbled.

As soon as Clint left, Tony said in a low voice, "I know what it is. The wound across Natasha's lips, I mean. I used to listen to Chelsea Grin, the death metal band, all the time. They got their name from this torture method that originated in Scotland. One day I was bored. Skimming Wikipedia via JARVIS. I pulled up Chelsea Grin after Iron Maiden. Turns out that most metal bands are named after torture methods." Tony squeezed his eyes shut and he put a hand to them. "You hold down the victim, cut past each corner of the lips with a knife. Then you kick or stab...anything to make the victim scream...and split the wound open."

"Maybe that explains the broken bottle," Bruce said in a hushed voice.

Everyone paused in silence to think the same thing: how the damage done to Natasha was truly horrifying and inhuman.

Pepper arrived in half an hour later. She looked frantic and worried. Maria was still inside the room, with the door partially open. Pepper gave her a hesitant glance before Maria nodded to let her come in. Tony watched Pepper put a hand to her mouth once she saw Natasha. It moved him to see Pepper holding Natasha's hand and doing her best not to cry. After a few minutes, the women too stepped outside.

Tears welled in Pepper's eyes and finally ran down her face. Tony wrapped a comforting arm around her. Pepper rested her head against his chest. She stared numbly at the arc reactor glowing below his black Metallica shirt.

"It hurts to see those stitches on her face. I can't even imagine how she feels now...how she felt back then..."

"I know. It's awful."

Tony wasn't the type to have a way with words, especially words of comfort. Even for his girlfriend. So he continued to hold her to his chest and gently rock her as she quietly cried. It never ceased to amazed him...Pepper always went out of her way to care about people. He could never achieve the level of empathy and compassion she had in her heart. She was good with people just as he was good with machines. Pepper became friends with Natasha before Tony could. It wasn't until later that Natasha warmed up to him after seeing past his hard-headed and egotistic attitude. Natasha was such a battle-hardened woman with a life filled with distrust, deceit and violence. She needed the gentleness, honesty and feminine touch from a good girl-friend like Pepper. Tony heard that even though Natasha didn't want to admit it, the Russian spy really enjoyed going to GNOs with Pepper. Occasionally Agent Hill would join them, and they would have a blast. Tony would never understand all the shopping, fine dining and paying to get manicures and spa treatments, but he knew that it did a world of good for Natasha. Even through this tough time, _especially_ through this tough time, Natasha would need all the help and support she could get. Who else is more fit for the part than Pepper?

"I wish I can do something...anything." Pepper whispered. "I feel so helpless-"

"Don't say that." Tony interjected. "You've done everything you could. Natasha...just needs time. And more of your girl power. Then she'll be fine before you know it. You two will have all those girls' night outs again, going to all the spas and shops till you drop."

Pepper couldn't help but laugh a little. "Oh, Tony...what am I going to do with you? Always trying to be funny even at the worst time."

But that's why you love me, right?"

She smiled. "Right."

No one stayed in the medical ward for long, because the Avengers had to report in to Fury for the usual debriefing session. Thankfully, the Director kept it short and simple. After further questioning from S.H.I.E.L.D. authorities, Joffrey was handed over to the federal bureau of Scotland to determine the final verdict. He was sentenced to death, and executed two days later. When news of this reached the Avengers, they showed no surprise. They could care less for a criminal who deserved death not just for his twisted crimes, but also for inflicting harm on their friend and teammate.

Everyone returned to their normal business, both as Avengers and civilians. But not one day went by without the wellbeing of Natasha on their minds. She finally woke up on the fifth day. Their joy over the end of her comatose state quickly died down as Natasha continued to lay in bed with her eyes open, but looking utterly broken and defeated. She couldn't say a word, due to the horrific memento of her most recent mission. In all those days of Natasha's silence, they kept wondering what she was thinking and feeling. They could only hope that they could be of help to her, rather than worsen her condition. They had no way of knowing for sure.

* * *

Natasha had heard everything back in Scotland. She had been too weak to wake up and show them some kind of indication that she heard. Her teammates' words of comfort touched her in ways she had never experienced before. In her mostly isolated and violent life, the only praise she had ever received until now was how well she murdered her enemies and completed her missions. To hear everyone praising her strength, focus, determination and heroism felt strange to her. But in a good way, of course.

She knew that Clint was the only one who didn't talk to her. And she perfectly understood. Just like her, he wasn't one for words. He had always been a loner, living only by the unspoken rule of every man to himself. She could see that she was the closest friend Clint ever had, but he just didn't know what to do to express that. She would do the same if Clint had been in her situation, so she didn't blame him.

Natasha was certainly not the type to feel self-conscious and give a damn about her looks. She had seen wounds much worse than her own. She just hated the way people eyed her with pity. She was the Black Widow, a woman who made a name for herself by killing people in their sleep and trailing blood after her wake. She could never forget what she used to say to herself whenever she went on her murderous missions: "Killing people is easy. Making them suffer is an art."

She never believed in karma, but she felt as if the strife and suffering she had inflicted all those years ago had returned with a vengeance. She felt that she deserved it. That was why she couldn't stand the sympathy and compassion her comrades gave her. Especially from Pepper. She was the worst. All that open and tender compassion made Natasha feel bad.

Every day was a struggle. The wounds on her face, her ankles and between her legs hurt like hell.

Natasha couldn't eat or drink—normally, that is. She had to settle for the tubes that brought liquid through her nose and down to her stomach. It wasn't painful, though it felt uncomfortable and strange. She couldn't open her mouth for anything. She tried parting her mouth once, slowly and steadily. After 2 seconds, she had to shut it closed because of the pain from the stitched wounds. She couldn't move her legs at all either. It would be a while before she could set her feet on the floor and walk. Much as she tried, Natasha couldn't always get her feet to sit still. Sometimes when she shifted in her bed, her ankles would twitch reflexively and she would hiss as bolts of pain lanced through her legs. As for the wounds between her legs…she was too embarrassed to think about the things she was unable to do because of them. She hated whenever the doctors had to check up on her for it.

Sometimes, if she could, she was sorely tempted to say "I've had shards of glass stuck up there. Of course it fucking hurts." Sometimes she could think of nothing else but the pain and how she ended up this way. Sometimes she was so frustrated she could cry. Natasha didn't want the others to see her like this, so eventually she requested to the nurses that no one visit her. Since then, she was by herself from dawn to dusk. Every time any, most of the time _all_ of the Avengers, came to see her, she felt unworthy and undeserving of their time. She couldn't even bring herself to look at the gifts they've been giving her, particularly Steve's hand-drawn get-well cards. But it's not like she hated them. Not at all. In fact, she would do the right thing to return her gratefulness by smiling and saying thank you. Except she couldn't. All she could do was to ignore their sympathetic gazes and bottle up any signs of pain. She didn't mind the loneliness. She would rather give in to her agony than hide it from her friends and ignore them any further.

Worst of all, they wouldn't understand. Not even Clint.

* * *

The Avengers had never felt any more hurt and bewildered when the nurse came to them one day, and told them they were unable to see Natasha. They left the hospital and sat together at a nearby café, with cups of coffee they ordered but didn't drink. Not even Thor drank his and demanded for another.

Bruce frowned. "I don't get it…did we do something wrong?"

Tony looked down at his coffee, almost in shame. "Maybe she doesn't like seeing us anymore…"

"No, that cannot be true," Thor insisted. "Perhaps she prefers to be alone. I understand if she wants us to keep our distance."

Clint remained silent as he turned a bag of sugar over and over between his fingers. Somehow it didn't come as a surprise to him. Whenever they took time out of their day to pay Natasha a visit, she looked as if she didn't want them in the room. She hardly met their eyes, which was unusual because Natasha always kept eye contact. It was part of her confidence and capability as one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best agents. He was sure that she wasn't ashamed of her injuries. Natasha was a woman who didn't mind getting down and dirty. She would bear the wounds and wear the bandages to prove it. He knew this from experience of previous missions, particularly ones that ended with narrow escapes and close calls. No, it went deeper beyond the physical wounds. Clint just wasn't sure what exactly it could be. The thought of that frustrated him to no end.

Thor finally took a sip of his sugar and cream-filled coffee as he quietly mused to himself. Whenever he searched Natasha's face, he thought he saw resentment in her eyes. Not necessarily resentment towards them…but a resentment towards everyone's gestures of kindness. He also thought he saw uncertainty, as if she wasn't familiar with receiving all the attention she has been getting lately. He recognized that same look from a certain someone…

Someone who was also very dear to him and might just relate to what Natasha was going through.

"My friends, I think I know who can help."

Everyone turned to face Thor. Normally he was used to getting attention. Now he felt slightly uncomfortable as he considered what he was about to tell them. The god of thunder hesitated with reluctance in his eyes. "I doubt you will favor my suggestion, though."

"Well, who do you have in mind?" Steve inquired.

"My brother…Loki."

* * *

_Yay for Loki's return! I bet you guys are excited for that. :) I wanted to keep the interrogation scene with Joff necessary but short, so I could focus on Nat's trauma. It's to give him a bit of his background and wrap up some loose ends from the first chapter. I removed traces of a Scottish accent from the doctor and Joffrey because one, I don't know much about writing dialogue in that accent and two, from what I've heard and read, it can be hard to understand. I just dropped in a few telltale words like "lass" and "ye ken" (you know)._

_Writing Natasha's hospitalized situation is made possible by mainly my own experiences. I've had my appendix removed and got stitches for cutting my leg on glass. Not at the same time, though...that would've really sucked.  
_

_Having Natasha unable to talk and properly communicate opens up a lot of room for me to explore her inner emotional turmoil and feelings towards what she's going through. Everyone else can't really figure her out because she's hard to read. The recent trauma makes it even harder for them to reach out to her. Except for Loki! (Eventually!) :D [Gum]_


	4. Punishment

**Chelsea Grin (4)**  
**Punishment**

**"People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over."**  
**~Jim Morrison**

Pain. That simple word couldn't hope to properly define and name the nuances of sheer agony Loki felt. Spikes, needles, swords, spears, daggers...whatever weapons ever crafted in the Nine Realms seemed to pierce through his eyes and lance through every nerve in his body.

Shutting his eyes was futile. The snake venom on his eyelids was like fire through paper. Loki's howl of pain died in his throat so he heard the snake hissing overhead. Groaning, his regenerating eyes caught sight of the serpent, slowly undulating in a slow, hypnotic dance. Between him and the snake was a large bowl. Loki heard the venom dripping and pooling into it. He turned his blistered eyes to his temporary salvation. Frigga. His mind, briefly alleviated from the sheer torture, flitted back to the memory of what Odin last said.

He remembered facing the entire Asgardian court, chained, muzzled and restrained by Thor, who stood by his side as they confronted Odin. It felt good to be home, however much he thought he hated it. After traveling to unknown realms, striking deals with shady beings, and surviving the hell on Midgard, he realized how much he missed Asgard. He just wished that it didn't have to come to this.

The Allfather never looked more grim. And sad. His voice, low, quiet and rough, sounded as if he was mourning.

"Loki Odinson..."

The muzzle muffled Loki's scornful grunt. Son of Odin...that was a lie. Just like his entire life. He was Loki Laufeyson, the man who killed his own true father, who tried to kill his own true race…he was not even a man, but a monster.

"You are accused of theft of the Tesseract and reckless actions of malevolent intent against another realm. Your crimes against Midgard, its people, and your brother are to be paid swiftly with Asgardian justice. I, Odin Allfather of Asgard, hereby sentence you to imprisonment."

At this, the mass of Asgardians erupted with cries of shock and outrage. Everyone expected other words, specifically some sort of death penalty.

Odin instantly silenced them with a raise of his hand. "Loki shall be chained to a rock, laid bare for a serpent to drip venom into his eyes, so that he will pay the price for the madness and delusion that has blinded him."

Cold dread numbed his body as Loki saw nods of agreement and satisfaction from the crowd. Only Frigga and Thor had regarded Odin with looks of horror. Even the Warriors Three and Sif had appeared unsettled.

"Father..." Thor managed to say. "Please reconsider. Is it really necessary to carry out such a cruel punishment?"

Odin's single, sad gray eye did not waver. "Justice must be done. Let the punishment, fit for a fallen prince, be carried forth."

Here he was now. Bound by unbreakable, Dwarf-forged chains. Stripped of his clothes and armor. Left with only the dignity of his lower tunic. Trapped under the mercy of the damnable snake. And worst of all, deprived of his magic. Words were only words. Thor might've spoken in Loki's defense, but where was he now? Off at Midgard, reveling in the glory of being part of "Earth's Mightiest Heroes" while leaving Loki to rot and writhe in pain.

The Trickster God snapped back to the present when he noticed movement from Frigga. Her arms wavered from the weight of the bowl. She could only hold off the venom for so long. The bowl was getting full again. He met her eyes, and her face was tight with sorrow as she was forced to move the bowl away. No matter how many times he endured and survived it, Loki was never prepared for the incoming liquid heat. Between his screams of agony, Loki cursed the snake. Cursed his so-called brother, cursed his so-called father and cursed all of Asgard. He dimly heard Frigga sobbing. His heart wrenched at the sound.

Even in this state of extreme anger and pain, he could never bring himself to curse his mother. Frigga, who offered him warmth, kindness and comfort since he was a babe. Frigga, the only one who regarded Loki's talent in magic and the arts with love and praise. Frigga, who still offered comfort even now with the bowl that caught the snake venom.

She finally emptied the bowl of its viscous, vile contents. She rushed to hold out the bowl and relieve her adopted son of the snake's cruelty. Why Odin made her perform this task, Loki did not know. Holding the bowl could've been left to anyone, some guard or valkyrie. No, Odin gave specific instructions for Frigga to do it. Loki didn't think it was fair at all.

"Mother, I'm sorry," he managed to croak. "I'm so sorry."

More tears welled in her eyes as she continued to hold the bowl. She did not reply. He thought it even more cruel to have Odin forbid her from speaking to Loki. No one dares to defy the Allfather. Not even his own wife. Again, the time came for Frigga to empty the bowl. And again, Loki erupted into a howling, writhing fit.

He didn't know how much longer he could bear this. He struggled against the chains in a useless attempt to free himself from the pain. His muscles were taut from his clenched fists and arching back. The venom that pooled in his destroyed eyes ran farther down his face, searing a path through his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. His screams turned into mangled and contorted cries as the venom entered his mouth. He felt it constricting his throat and burning off his tongue and teeth. Damn it all, he couldn't even grit his teeth in pain. Loki could only cough and gasp for air. He choked on the venom and the stench of his own burning face. With as much effort as he could muster, he laid still. He let the venom attack his eyes so he could restore his mouth and breathe.

'It would be a mercy to just kill me,' Loki thought. 'By Yggdrasil, Hel and all things holy...I just want to _die_!'

Suddenly the lonely, dark chamber resounded with the bang of an opened door and a flood of light. Loki heard Frigga turn and gasp.

"Thor!"

'Thor?'

Loki was utterly shocked. Next thing he knew, he no longer felt the constant drip of the accursed venom. He stiffened in surprise as he felt the chains shatter under the blow of Mjolnir. Loki slumped on the rock like a dead animal spread out under the sun.

"Father releases you from his command," he heard Thor say to Frigga. "Please tend to Loki."

"Yes, of course," she exclaimed. She set down the bowl, and with immense relief and frantic worry, used the long sleeve of her dress to wipe at Loki's face. He winced as she gently dabbed at his damaged eyes and wiped the venom off his burnt skin.

Meanwhile, Thor promptly killed the snake with a powerful wrench of his hands. He tossed away the sinewy carcass and approached Loki with concern deeply etched in his face.

"Brother, are you all right?"

"I...just need...a few minutes..."

After a short time, Loki felt most of his senses restoring. Thor waited patiently. When Loki felt he was properly intact and recovered, he gently moved Frigga's hands away.

Loki blinked his newly restored eyes slowly, as if reassuring himself this was no dream. He squinted at Thor. "What are you doing here? Why have you returned?"

Thor didn't answer him right away. He turned to Frigga. "Mother, please allow me to talk with Loki in private. This is a very urgent matter."

Frigga nodded in understanding. She gave one last sympathetic glance at her sons before leaving the chamber.

Loki glanced at the dead snake. It looked little more than a coil of greasy, scaly rope. He found it hard to believe that just moments before, he had been completely under its mercy. He turned back to Thor and shook his head in disbelief. "Whatever is so pressing and important to make the Allfather relinquish my sentence?"

Thor eyed him with unusual and intense seriousness. Loki could sense something was very wrong.

"Are you familiar with the woman named Natasha Romanoff, brother?"

"Ah yes…that sharp red-headed spy in your little group. Indeed…I know her well. What about her?"

"She is in a very dire situation. While carrying out a task for S.H.I.E.L.D., the man she was supposed to hunt had captured her…and very brutally took her maidenhead in the process."

Loki was shocked to hear this. 'Agent Romanoff…? Captured and raped…? Impossible.' He hid his reaction and continued to eye Thor with a mask of cool composure and indifference. "How does she fare now?"

"Her injuries were deep. The healers on Midgard had done everything they could. But she is scarred and broken, beyond the help of physical healing."

"Is that why you have come to me? To help your female comrade?"

"Please, brother..." Thor pleaded. "Come back to Midgard with me. I need you. Natasha needs you."

Loki exhaled sharply with disbelief and scorn. "The last time I checked, all of Midgard and you miserable lot wanted me out like a bat out of Hel. And besides...why should I go out of my way to help that miserable, mewling quim-"

Loki's eyes shot open wide as Thor seized him violently by the shoulders. Thor's teeth bared and his eyes flashed so that he looked like a lion.

"Do not speak ill of Natasha! She is a fellow warrior and a good friend!"

For a split second, Thor's burst of anger frightened Loki. He raised his hands defensively.

"I apologize. I should've had more care in dealing with a delicate matter such as this."

Thor slackened his grip. "Will you not come, brother?" he asked softly.

"I suppose I'll expect a welcome party waiting for me." Loki replied with sarcasm.

"The rest will understand. We've all agreed to this, even though a few needed some convincing."

"I'm sure that the fact I am deprived of magic really helped make your point."

Thor ignored his adopted brother's bitter remark. "I promise not to let my Midgardian comrades harm you in any way. You have my word. And _you_ will promise not to hurt them in return, brother."

"Of course, of course." Loki drawled. "I am no warrior of brawn and strength like you. Your Midgardian friends have nothing to fear."

Loki didn't like it. He felt like a helpless infant without magic. Nothing felt more devastating than having his magical abilities drained out of him as if it were his own soul being sucked up by the Allfather. He would feel even more like an infant under Thor's protection, vulnerable and prone to the wrath and hostility of the Avengers. Still, when Loki weighed his options, facing the Avengers seemed worlds better than enduring snake venom to the face for what could very well be an eternity.

Loki finally sighed in resignation. "Very well. I'll come with you."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it." Thor put a hand on Loki's shoulder again, this time gently. "To be honest, brother...I truly believe you can help Natasha. You would understand her pain."

Loki's fingers flitted to his lips. It has been ages, but sometimes he swore he could feel the string that had sewn his mouth shut.

He finally sighed and shrugged in resignation. "Very well, brother. I will accompany you to the Bifrost. But first, I am in need of decent cover."

"Yes, of course. I'll accompany you to your chambers. I trust that you still remember where it is?"

Loki nodded wistfully. "I remember…"

He and Thor exited the room, which was part of a dungeon kept separate from the Asgardian palace. They used to play around the dungeon as children whenever they dared each other to play pranks on the guards or put their bravery to the test. Thor and Loki knew ways they could take so they would be unseen by guards or Asgardian citizens who happened to pass by. When they approached the palace and ascended the stairs to the chambers, Loki was flooded with nostalgia when they came upon his own room. He swore it had been the same since he had left it.

Loki wasted no time. He changed in a hurry into a lightweight black tunic. It looked similar to his attire he had worn during his first attempt at conquering Midgard, but without the golden armor that would catch people's attention. It was the closest thing to those Midgardian suits he had a fondness for. He evaluated himself in front of the body-length mirror next to his bed. His eyes were still bleary and bloodshot from the venom. His black hair had grown since his return to Asgard; the spiky black tresses brushed just below his shoulders. Loki found a spare band of fabric to tie his hair into a ponytail. His heart ached with nostalgia upon seeing the open scrolls and journals spread out on his desk. Months in the dungeon didn't count. Loki just returned home, and now he was leaving it again. He spared a quick last glance behind him before leaving his room and joining Thor at the end of the hallway.

They headed to the stables next. Thor grinned as he went over to his horse, Styrkur. Tall, broad, powerfully built, golden as the sun and whose name meant "strength" in Asgardian, Styrkur had been Thor's trusted steed since their youth. Meanwhile, Loki approached his own horse with a big smile and an affectionate pat on the neck.

"How are you, old fellow?" he gently inquired.

His horse nickered quietly and pressed his muzzle against Loki's hands.

Loki had named his steed Draugur—"ghost" in Asgardian. Unlike Styrkur, Draugur was lean, black and swift as a shadow. Because Asgardians generally favored horses of great size and strength, Loki had been the only one to express his desire to own the smallest horse in the stable. He was also the only one able to ride Draugur without fear of being bitten or thrown off by the normally unlikeable and aggressive horse. The two steeds, like the two brothers, were as different as night and day.

Thor and Loki mounted on Styrkur and Draugur and rode them to the observatory. Loki remembered the days when they were children, racing with their colts all around the Asgardian palace. Most of the time the races ended in a draw; Styrkur's strength was equal to Draugur's speed. As always, they found Heimdall standing guard between the end of the bridge and the observatory. The Gatekeeper regarded them with cool, red eyes that radiated fire and calmness all at once. Loki found it hard to meet his piercing gaze.

Thor dipped his head at him. "Greetings, Heimdall. I have permission from my father to escort Loki back to Midgard."

"Yes, I have heard. You may proceed."

Heimdall turned and led the brothers into the observatory. He sunk his blade through the sheath, opening the Bifrost in a powerful rush. Since the Chitauri battle, the Bifrost was restored to its full strength and readiness.

"I wish you a safe journey," Heimdall said.

"Thank you." Thor replied. Loki merely nodded his head in acknowledgement. They stood side by side, facing the swirling gate of light and color that would soon transport them across the stars.

Thor glanced at Loki. "Are you ready, brother?"

Loki's lip narrowed to a thin, hard line. His hands tightened into fists, which quickly began to sweat. Unlike Thor, he wasn't as eager to return to Midgard, especially after everything he had done in an attempt to destroy it. He was going to plunge straight into enemy territory, unarmed, disgraced and stripped of his powers. He was nervous, but he would never throw away his pride to admit that to Thor.

"Of course," he smoothly lied. "Ready for anything."

* * *

_Norse myths are pretty cray-cray. Snake venom in your eyes for all eternity doesn't sound like fun. In the myths, it's Sigyn, Loki's wife, who catches the venom. And he was punished for killing Balder, not trying to take over Earth. But that's the great thing about fanfics. You can bend and twist stuff to your liking, as long as you don't break too many rules. (Which I hope I haven't. :P)_

_About the horses…styrkur is actually "strength" in Norwegian, while draugur is "ghost" in Icelandic._

_And what's this about Loki having his mouth sewn shut? All will be explained in due time. ;) You guys excited about the Loki and Natasha interaction? I'm kinda nervous, actually. I hope that I can write about their chemistry in spectacular fashion. [Gum]_


	5. Paths Cross Once More

_Sooo...the amount of faves, alerts and reviews is mind-blowing. I've been on my other account, focusing on obscure (but good!) manga/anime, so this is like...whoa. Not that it's a bad thing! Keep it up guys! I would really love it if you could spread the word on Tumblr via links and tags. :D [Gum]_

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (5)**  
**Paths Cross Once More  
**

**"Pain shared is pain lessened."**  
**~Spider Robinson**

Tony shook his head in disbelief as he sat in the hospital's waiting room, arms folded, legs crossed and deep in thought. He wondered what had possessed him and the others to agree to Thor's out-of-this-world suggestion. Literally.

"My friends, I know who can help." Thor had declared back at the cafe.

"Who do you have in mind?" Steve asked.

"My brother...Loki."

A chilling and appalled silence had seized the Avengers. Thor waited with apprehension, bracing himself for their reaction.

Tony was the first to speak. "W-wait. Say what again?" he stammered.

Thor cleared his throat. "Loki, my brother, might be able to help Natasha."

Steve frowned. Bruce looked unsettled. Only Clint voiced a reaction as loud and abrupt as Tony's.

"You want to bring that mind-controlling son of a bitch back here?"

Bruce shook his head and fidgeted with his glasses. "The guy's crazy. Who knows what he'll do once he sets foot back on Earth."

Everyone jumped when Clint slammed a fist on the table and pushed his chair back. "I do _not_ want to see that horn-headed lunatic again."

Thor followed suit so that his broad-shouldered frame towered over Clint. He glared at the archer. "That lunatic is my brother."

"_Adopted_ brother," Clint snarled. "What's he to you?"

Tony said nothing as his wide-eyed gaze darted between Thor and Clint. Bruce was growing nervous by the second. A thundercloud of crackling tension and anger seemed to engulf the God of Thunder and the archer.

Tony raised his hands in a brave attempt to placate both men. "Uh, guys...can you sit back down?"

Thor and Clint ignored him.

"I'll tell you what your brother did. He compromised me. He compromised Natasha! I don't know exactly what the hell went on between him and Nat in that Helicarrier cage. But she told me herself...and only a monster can break a woman like her."

Thor raised his voice. "Agent Barton, please listen-"

Clint jabbed a finger at him, his face livid. "No, you listen to _me_. He ought to stay from us and our goddamn planet! I'm sure he had fun mind-raping me. Maybe he would do the same to Natasha...as if she can't get enough of that shit already! He's a monster, you hear me? A monster!"

Tony and Bruce regarded Clint with horrified shock. As for Thor, he snapped. He seized Clint by the neck with frightening force.

"You speak ill of my brother again, I will smite you with Mjolnir and scatter your ashes across the ends of this realm-"

"_Enough_!"

Thor and Clint immediately fell silent under Steve's sharp order. All eyes turned to him. They had never seen the captain so angry yet so commanding. Steve too was on his feet. He regarded both men with steel-eyed authority.

"Thor, put down the hammer. Clint, put down your fists. Both of you, at ease. This is a _hospital_, for God's sake."

Thor sighed and lowered Mjolnir, which had been raised and about ready to strike. He muttered a sheepish apology. He also released Clint, and the archer winced as he put a hand to his bruised neck. He said nothing more and sat back down sullenly.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. "The storm is clear," he joked weakly.

Bruce visibly relaxed as he exhaled a shuddering sigh. He dashed a hand across his sweating forehead.

Steve seemed to calm down as well. He eyed Thor calmly. "Let's start over and handle this another way. Thor, give us your reasons for placing your trust on Loki." Steve turned to Clint. "I understand that you're upset. But it would be best to remain calm instead of overreacting. Give Thor the opportunity to explain himself."

Clint silently nodded in gloomy resignation. He seemed too tired to argue any further.

"I understand your concern about Loki's destructive capabilities. But you do not need to worry about the possible danger my brother poses. He can no longer wield magic."

Everyone, including Clint, gave him looks of disbelief.

"No magic, huh?" Tony remarked. "Then that leaves him no better than us Earthlings."

"More or less," Thor replied. "Without it, he cannot teleport, cast spells, and do whatever else he is capable of."

"Like wreaking havoc, death and destruction everywhere he goes?"

Thor frowned at Tony's jibe. "Magic is his second life. Losing it cripples him. Nevertheless, he remains alive. It was a part of Asgardian justice delivered by Odin, my father and the king of Asgard." He lowered his eyes and gravely stared at the floor. "My brother was further punished by imprisonment on a rock, doomed to have snake venom poured into his eyes for however long until my father sees fit."

After a brief silence, Tony winced. "Ouch. That has to hurt."

Bruce shook his head. "What a horrible way to get punished." he said in a hushed voice. "Even for someone like Loki. I don't think anyone deserves that kind of thing."

Thor sighed. "I agree. But my father's word is law. Justice and penalties on Midgard are like punishment for children compared to the Asgardian way. It is relentless, harsh, almost cruel."

"If your father's word is law, why do you talk as if you can bring Loki back?" Steve asked. "That would mean lifting his punishment, right?"

"Exactly. Perhaps I can convince my father to change his mind. I have told him much about the bravery of all of you. Natasha is no exception."

A small smile crossed his face. "She is much like Sif, a good friend of mine back in Asgard. She too is a woman warrior, and my father made the right observation of pointing out similarities between the two. He may rule with an iron fist, but he is a very wise king and would not be so heartless to turn away a friend in need. Even if it means relinquishing the punishment on Loki."

Tony tilted his head upwards with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, so Loki lost his magic mojo. And you _might_ have a way of bringing him back here. But...why him?"

Thor gave his Midgardian comrades a long, serious stare. "I hope you can suspend your disbelief over what I'm about to tell you. This is the truth, and no tall tale. You can't say that I am lying, because my brother is much better at that than I."

Their coffee definitely got cold by the time Thor finished. Tony's mind shifted back to the present, though he couldn't help but feel amused at the thought of Thor's story. No wonder why Loki had a brain like a bag full of cats, as Bruce had described. Crazy punishments like having his mouth sewn shut and eyes destroyed by venom was bound to screw up his mind. Not to mention his sanity and whatever goodness he had left.

Tony glanced left and right. None of his teammates were in sight. He wondered how long it would be until Thor arrived with his insane adopted brother.

Down the other side of the hall, the elevator dinged. The doors parted for Steve, Bruce, Clint, Maria and Pepper. They made their way to Tony.

"Haven't seen them yet?" Tony asked.

Steve shook his head.

Maria gestured to the direction of the courtyard with her thumb. "The guards are still posted there. We can only wait. It's a matter of time for them to come through the wormhole."

* * *

Thor and Loki hurtled across the stars, surrounded by streaks of iridescent lights and colors. They braced themselves for the slightly rough landing as Midgard rapidly came into view. They hit the ground with a resounding boom.

And the first thing Loki saw were several gun muzzles to his face.

Six S.H.I.E.L.D. soldiers, covered in head to toe in black military gear, surrounded Loki like a pack of wolves.

Thor raised his hands to placate the men. "Warriors of S.H.I.E.L.D., put away your weapons. Loki will be under my watch from here on out."

"Nice welcome party," Loki said dryly. "I suppose you knew about this?"

"Yes, but it's only a gesture of precaution. You are a war criminal on enemy territory, as Director Fury jad put it. He wanted to ensure that our journey to Midgard would proceed without a problem."

Loki scowled at the S.H.I.E.L.D. soldiers. "Well, as you can see, I am unarmed. And my brother still stands alive. Do I pass the test?"

"We're reporting to the Director. He's the one who will give the okay."

After a few minutes talking to the radio, the soldier nodded. "He affirms and approves your arrival to Earth. You're good to go."

"Thank you," Thor replied.

With that out of the way, Loki finally got to observe his surroundings. It appeared to be a vast but crisp and clean courtyard, filled with green plants, a sparkling fountain and surrounded by buildings with many glass windows.

"Where are we?"

"The plaza near S.H.I.E.L.D.'s medical ward. S.H.I.E.L.D. and I chose this as the appropriate site of our arrival. Our return to Midgard had to be discreet. That's why the S.H.I.E.L.D. warriors were stationed to avoid triggering false alarms on their security system."

Loki nodded. "I see. Very thoughtful of you. I'm impressed. Will they return to their base now?"

"No, they're still keeping watch from a distance...for extra measures."

By now, Thor knew exactly how to get to Natasha's room. Despite their outlandish clothes, no one paid them as much as a second glance. Nurses and doctors were too busy bustling about in efforts to care for their patients.

A pandemonium of reactions ensued when Thor and Loki rounded a corner to run into the Avengers.

Tony and Bruce jolted in surprise ad apprehension at the sight of Loki. Steve didn't respond as sharply, though his eyes hardened and his lips tightened. Maria sucked in a little gasp and tensed. Clint fixed him with a glare of hatred, with his fists clenched by his sides. Loki made a mocking wave, infuriating the archer even further. Pepper looked a little confused; she didn't recognize him without the armor and horned helm. When Loki stepped closer, Tony instinctively put a protective arm around Pepper.

"You sure it's safe to be around him, Thor?"

"Loki will not hurt anybody, I promise. Does Natasha know we're in the hospital?"

Tony shook his head. "No, we're all down here so she can't see us. We don't want to disturb her, but we can't help but show up."

Clint folded his arms and scowled at Loki. "I can't believe that he of all people is allowed to see her."

Thor put a hand on Loki's shoulder. "It will only be for a short time. Right, brother?"

Loki shrugged. "Yes, I suppose."

Now he was very curious to see how Natasha was faring. He wondered just how wounded she was. Loki followed Thor further down the hallway to her room. Thor hesitated for a second before carefully opening the door. He and Loki stepped in a little to stand between the hallway and Natasha's room.

She looked up to meet eyes with Loki.

He expected to feel something else entirely. Gloat, satisfaction, some sort of sick, gratifying feeling upon the sight of seeing a hated enemy broken. No...he felt pity. She stared back at him with the eyes of a being utterly drained of its soul and energy. His gaze moved down to the stitched wounds on her face. He couldn't take his riveted eyes off of it, morbidly fascinated at how exactly she got them in the first place. The blood-red grin against her pale skin looked almost eerie and sinister, especially when he considered Natasha as a mostly serious and unflinching woman. She seemed to notice his eyes boring into her wounds. She shifted in her bed just slightly and balled her hands into fists.

The spell was broken when Thor spoke. "Natasha," he said gently. "I know this comes as a shock to you. But Loki will pose no harm. He cannot use magic anymore, and I have been given permission from my father to allow him back on Midgard."

Natasha continued to gaze at Loki warily. Then she lowered her eyes to the IVs strapped to her wrists. Thor wasn't sure what that meant.

"Would you...allow Loki to stay in the room? He would like to speak with you."

Loki studied Natasha carefully. She was definitely on her toes and confused...but not hostile. Perhaps she was too tired. He could see the weariness etched on her face. She slowly lifted her eyes so that her gaze met Loki's.

His reply was as quiet and solemn as Thor's. "You have my word. I will not hurt you...in any way."

'Verbally and physically...there would be no point in hurting you any further, Romanoff.'

It was her turn to analyze Loki, to catch any traces of lying and deceit in his face. Finally, she seemed to find none, because her head slightly jerked in a curt nod.

Thor looked relieved. "Thank you, Natasha. My brother and I have lived for a long time. He has seen and gone through many things. I believe that Loki can relate to you and what you have gone through."

He made a sideways glance to Loki. 'Your turn to talk now,' he seemed to say.

And with that, Thor exited the room to leave Loki and Natasha alone.

Loki remained where he was, standing across from the foot of her bed. He folded his arms behind his back, trying to think of something to say.

Finally, he made a little laugh and shook his head. "Damn it, Thor. Does he take me as one to offer words of comfort? Words of insult are all I'm good at. You of all people would know. I have to hand it to you, Natasha...you have earned my deepest respect and earnest admiration. You beat me in my own game. Lied to the God of Lies. You must feel pretty good about that, do you not?"

She glared at him. He was supposed to feel good about that. But Loki sighed. He got carried away with his sincere bitterness that he failed to remember Natasha's own predicament.

'And that is why, to this day, no woman wants to court me. I'm terribly insensitive...not to mention rude and inconsiderate. I'm such a prick.'

His words came out like vinegar, slow and awkward, as he was unused to making sincere apologies. "Look...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be nasty. Whoever did this to you must be a monster. Not unlike me, perhaps."

Her glare did not waver. The stormy green eyes seemed to him like twin pools of dark, green maelstroms. Along with the pale skin and bruises beneath her eyes, it made a pitiful sight. He almost saw himself in her.

'Great going, Loki.' he berated himself. 'Rubbing salt into the wound rather than soothing it with a salve.'

"I have nothing to hide this time, Agent Romanoff. I have come openly and peacefully, with nothing in mind but the truth. I tell you...there's nothing worse than losing a bet to Dwarves."

Natasha's glare softened at the slightest hint of curiosity. She tilted her head at the strange notion. She didn't take her eyes off him as he decided to pull up a stool and sit down across from her. He took care to keep a distance from her bandaged feet.

"Have you heard of Lady Sif? From mythical stories of your world or from Thor, perhaps? She and I never got along. I made fun of her for pursuing the warrior life meant only for men, while she made fun of me for my interest in magic, considered by Asgardians as a feminine art. Funny how we never struck a friendship...both of us were objects of ridicule for a time. I suppose her silly, fawning admiration for Thor would be the reason."

The last statement left a bitter taste in his mouth. He sighed. "Anyways, I still remember the day Sif took her insults too far. I lived up to my name as the God of Mischief. When she slept, I sheared off her golden hair and turned it black as mine. She was _not_ happy. My victory was brief, because my glee was quickly replaced with fear from her death threats. Everyone knew that Lady Sif's temper is like the fires of Muspelheim, and one had to be a fool to stoke the flames. Well, I was that fool. I stuck my arm too deep into the fire."

Loki gazed off, seeing beyond the wall of the recovery room. "Young, naive and fearing for my life, I fled to the realm of the Dwarves. They agreed to my proposal of fabricating hair from gold, as a replacement for the hair Lady Sif lost by my hand. They completed the task, and went beyond to create more gifts for the royal Asgardians. Gungnir, the spear wielded by Odin, was one such gift. I declared the sons of Ivald, Brokk and Eitri, as the finest of smiths. They responded with a bet, wagering that they could make 3 more items even finer than the gifts. Whoever lost the bet would lose his head. Being the young, rash fools we were, we agreed."

Loki made a wry smirk. "I played dirty, of course. I wanted to ensure that I win the bet no matter what. I transformed myself into a fly and tried to sabotage the Dwarves' smithwork. They proved much more adamant and stronger than I had expected. I was getting panicked as they approached completion of the last item. I finally stung Brokk in the eye, ruining the perfection of his work. And that is why, to this very day, Mjolnir has such a short handle."

Loki glanced at Natasha, searching for a reaction. So far she hadn't made a sound. She seemed to loosen up just a bit; her shoulders were relaxed against the bed.

"It didn't end well for me. The second batch of gifts were complete, Thor could use his short hammer for throwing and the Asgardian court declared the Dwarves as winners. I saved my skin with my wits. I told Brokk and Eitri that to cut off my head would require chopping the neck. Which wasn't part of the bet."

A half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "The Dwarves had my lips sewn shut. I'm sure all of Asgard breathed a sigh of relief. No God of Mischief running around with anything mean and smart to say. Thor's friends said I had already lost my head when I made that stupid bet. It was true, but they didn't have to rub it in."

He sighed and shook his head. He ran fingers through his black hair, down to the new ponytail. "I had been beaten, humiliated...and forced to endure the pain of a Dwarf's leather thong through my lips in silence. Only Thor and his mother Frigga bothered to worry over me. I resented their pity and compassion. I had done nothing to deserve their sentiment."

He leaned towards Natasha and his voice dipped to a low whisper. "I'll admit to you that deep in my heart, I never needed their love more during that difficult time. Much like how the other Avengers dote on you for your recent trauma. I dare to say that you and I are, as Midgardians say, in the same boat."

Loki and Natasha held their gazes. Her face was an unreadable mask, with traces of weariness. Finally, Loki leaned back and slowly rose to his feet. "That is all I have to say to you. I suppose I should leave you alone now."

When he reached the door, he turned and dipped his head at Natasha. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "Thank you...for your cooperation."

Loki exited her room and everyone instantly swarmed around him, with Thor directly in front.

"Well? How did it go?" he demanded.

Tony peeked behind Loki. "Wow, no knife in your back. I'm surprised."

"You didn't do anything to hurt her, did you?" Clint asked tightly.

"Nothing of the kind," Loki replied. "Agent Romanoff and I simply had a one-sided chat. I talked, she listened. That's all."

Tony clapped his hands with resolution. "Avengers assemble."

Everyone just gave him skeptic looks.

"For what?" Bruce asked.

"Group huddle. Come on guys, get with the game here."

Steve rolled his eyes. Nevertheless they stood in a tight-knit circle, away from Loki. Clint fixed the God of Mischief with a wary scowl before turning his attention to Tony.

"We have to settle this sooner or later. What do we do with Loki now? Can he return to Asgard?"

"And resume his punishment? Asgard will not take kindly to his return."

"Well, he's not wanted here either!"

"This may sound mad, but I think he is a help to Natasha. I suggest that he remains on Midgard without his powers."

"What?" Tony hissed. "That _is_ mad. Totally crazy. And how long do you think he should stay?"

"Until he can gain everyone's trust. I'll admit that it'll be near impossible and a long stretch, but my father and I want to give him a second chance."

Clint stiffened at hearing the last statement. He gave Natasha a second chance...perhaps they could do the same for Loki. He cast a sideways glance at him and quickly banished the thought as he angrily turned back. He would rather die than forgive Loki. He was certain of that.

Tony sighed. "If Loki's gonna stay, we gotta decide _where_ he'll stay. Any volunteers?"

A long, pregnant silence ensued. Tony swore he thought he heard crickets.

"What about S.H.I.E.L.D.?" he finally suggested. "That would be the obvious choice."

Maria scoffed. "Are you kidding? Look what happened the last time we took him into custody."

"He has no magic. He won't have a chance to get out." Steve said.

"I'll be honest here, for the sake of trying to protect our dignity. S.H.I.E.L.D. would rather imprison a war criminal than babysit a magically deprived god."

"She has a point," Clint said with a dry laugh. "That, and I don't want him under _my_ watch."

Tony shrugged. "Okay, so Agent Hill and Agent Barton opt out. Anyone else? How about you, Thor?"

The God of Thunder shook his golden-haired head. "I would gladly take my brother under my wing...if only I'm not so busy acting as liaison between Midgard and Asgard. I have duties from S.H.I.E.L.D. authorities and my father alike. I hardly stay in my borrowed dwelling of New York. I barely have time to see Jane. I'm sorry, but I'm unable to watch Loki."

"Oh, come on. You're the one who said Loki should stay in the first place!"

Clint's face broke into a devilish smirk. "Hey, who votes that _Tony_ will watch over Loki?"

Everyone rose a hand in a unanimous vote. Tony looked around in wide-eyed, open-mouthed shock.

"What the hell? Even you, Bruce? You're a traitor!"

The physicist made a meek shrug and couldn't help but smile at Tony's expression. "It makes sense. You have a residential facility big and secure enough to contain Loki. S.H.I.E.L.D. and the rest of us have other things to worry about, like carrying on with usual business and laying low."

"Uh, I've got a full plate too, you know. I'm renovating my crib! I'm turning it from Stark tower to the Avengers tower! With floors for each of you guys and everything! And this is how you repay me."

Tony folded his arms and sulked. Thor patted a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It's an honor to provide for a prince of Asgard. There's no need to get angry."

The billionaire genius uttered a resigned groan. He raised his voice in exasperation. "Guess there's no point in arguing, huh?"

"Arguing about what?" Loki inquired.

Everyone moved out of their huddle to face him. Tony glared at the God of Mischief.

"It's official. I've been appointed to be your babysitter."

Loki curled his lip. "Oh, I am leaping with joy."

Tony and Thor flanked Loki as everyone walked towards the elevator to exit the hospital.

"At least babysitters get _paid_." Tony angrily muttered. "This is freakin' embarassing."

Loki was promptly escorted to Tony's car. Happy Hogan, who sat behind the wheel, looked up in confusion.

"Who's the guy in the World of Warcraft costume?"

Tony replied offhandedly as he opened the door. "Loki, Thor's bro and ex-megalomaniac. He's adopted."

He pushed Loki to the other side of the back row so he could scoot in. At Tony's insistence, Pepper sat in the passenger seat next to Happy.

"I didn't know you played WoW." Tony remarked.

Happy turned on the ignition. "I was obsessed back in high school. I played like a Korean playing Starcraft, like a pro."

"I'm sure. Now step on it, buddy...I've got stuff to take care of back at the tower."

Tony had to show Loki how to buckle the seat belt. Loki frowned at the restraining sash. "Is this a way to bind me?"

"It's a way to keep you from busting your head open. And I am _not_ getting pulled over by the police because a god doesn't know how to use the seat belt."

Loki was used to the roofless transport on Midgard, such as the S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicle and the Chitauri chariot. He didn't quite like the low and confined sides of Tony's Mercedes S55 AMG. At least it seemed to be a high-class mode of transport. The ride to Stark's tower was smooth and painless. Along the way he thought of Natasha.

'What could she be thinking now...?'

* * *

Pure hatred and animosity. Natasha expected to feel such things upon seeing Loki. She was wrong. There was also confusion and surprise. She asked herself, whatever possessed her to let him in? Curiosity, she assumed. Natasha found his story to be strangely believable. She detected nothing but the frank, albeit bitter, truth about his humiliation from the Dwarves. It was obvious that Dwarves must be short as Asgardians were tall. Shortness in height usually meant a shortness in temper. Natasha had listened with dark amusement to Loki's punishment. She couldn't imagine the pain of having a leather thong sewn between his lips. Then again, he was nothing short of a god, with accelerated healing and durability. His arrogance and cheating had been dealt with swift vengeance.

Even before Thor had explained that Loki no longer had magic, she could tell the Trickster God didn't come to attack her. He looked quite different than the last time she had seen him during and after the Chitauri crisis. He dressed in dark, plain attire, and his wild black hair had been tied back in a neat ponytail. Even without magical abilities, his voice still had a strangely magical quality to it. She remembered the day she interrogated Loki in the Helicarrier, and his voice had ranged from a soft, questioning purr to a harsh, lashing snarl as he attempted to get under her skin. When Loki told her his story by her bed, she couldn't help but feel lulled and pulled into his captivating voice, like a sailor pulled into the waters by a siren. How ironic that the roles were reversed. She realized that during then and now, Loki was implying how similar they were. Liars and killers...almost kin.

Natasha couldn't believe she was actually relating to someone like him. She was supposed to hate him, despise his very essence. She didn't know if she could ever forgive his heinous crimes...possessing Clint to act as his dog, killing Phil Coulson, unleashing near-apocalyptic horror and destruction upon Midgard, intending to have the entire world under his iron grip. But how could she call him a monster if she was no different?

She felt _sympathy_ for him.

And in his own way, perhaps, Loki felt sympathy for her too. What intrigued her was that unlike the others, he had never eyed her with overt pity. He had regarded her like an equal, and that was something she took comfort in.

* * *

_Loki and Natasha finally meet again! All the hate and hostility is toned down compared to other fics that describe those two seeing each other again. Oh well...at least I didn't make it like a...I don't know, a tea party...?  
_

_There was originally more stuff, but it got so long that I moved it to Chapter 6. As usual, feedback is accepted with open arms. :D_

_**ATTENTION AVENGERS TUMBLR FAN-ARTISTS! I NEED AN EYECATCHING AND AWESOME STORY IMAGE OF NATASHA WITH THE CHELSEA GRIN SCARS.** For the life of me, Natasha and her curly hair are hard to draw. I've got enough on my hands with this story. So...is anyone up to it? The scars extend up to the middle of her cheeks, not all the way back to her ears. Digital art is preferred. Other than that, you're free to do it however you want! **Message me if you're interested.** **Please send the finished image to my Tumblr:** **gabumon-noodles**. I'll return a thank you drawing featuring a super cute Loki. And I'll credit you, of course. ;) [Gum]_


	6. Demented Dreams

**Chelsea Grin (6)**  
**Demented Dreams**

**"You should have known**  
**The price of evil**  
**And it hurts to know**  
**That you belong here**  
**Ooh, it's your fuckin' nightmare!"**  
**~"Nightmare," by Avenged Sevenfold**

It was well into the evening when Loki was escorted into Tony's tower. The billionaire smartly stepped through the automatic double doors, with Loki close behind.

"Welcome to my humble abode—again. But I assure you that I won't have you in my lounge like last time."

Pepper followed in behind Tony and Loki. "I'll go fix dinner."

"What are you making tonight, babe?"

"Steak and baked potatoes. Medium rare, the way you like it."

Tony beamed. "Mmm, you know I do. I like 'em at that fine line between bloody and cooked."

Pepper glanced at Loki. "Are you hungry?"

"No, he's not." Tony quickly snapped.

"Tony! You don't speak for him. And you're being a rude host."

"Last time I checked, I was a volunteering babysitter. And you are not serving your awesome steak and baked potatoes to the supervillain of ultimate doom."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

Loki shot her a curt glance. "Spare me your concern. I have no urge, nor desire, to eat."

She seemed a little put off by his tartness. "All right…if you say so…"

Tony put up his hands. "There. The god has spoken. Come on, big guy. Straight to bed with you."

Loki sighed and rolled his eyes as he had no choice but to follow Tony. Pepper headed off the other way towards the kitchen. The two men walked in tense silence until they went into the elevator. Loki stared out the glass window, watching the ground level dwindle.

Tony sized him up with a quick sweeping glance. "You're really tall. Almost as tall as Thor. You people are giants."

"No. Those would be the Frost Giants."

"Ooh, there are giants in your world too?"

"Frost Giants have their own realm called Jotunheim."

Loki didn't want to continue on the subject. Thankfully Tony didn't press for more.

Upon reaching their destination, they exited the elevator. Tony led Loki down to the end of the hall. He made a sweeping gesture in the air as he walked. "This is my penthouse suite. Sometimes I have friends sleeping over after parties and such."

He stopped at a room and quickly clicked past security. The door slid open after an affirmative click. "And this is where you'll be sleeping every night. A hostage couldn't ask for a better room, I might say."

Loki entered and studied the room. It mirrored the clean and contemporary design of the hallways. Across from the bed and nightstand was a flat-screen plasma TV. On the other side of the door was a large glass window that provided a generous view of New York City's urban landscape.

"There are complimentary pajamas in the bathroom." Tony said. "I even have cable for you. In case you get bored out of your mind."

Tony made to close the door, then he changed his mind and the door slid back. He jabbed a finger at Loki. "I got my eye on you. So does JARVIS. You do so much as do anything fishy, and you've got automatic flying tasers up your ass. Got it?"

Loki scowled. "What in Hel is a taser?"

"Want a demonstration?"

Tony pulled out a long metallic stick from behind his back and poked at Loki's chest. The God of Mischief snarled in pain and surprise at the shock.

He eyed the taser rod with the wariness of a guarded wolf. "Don't tell me that...little thing...has the same power as Mjolnir."

"Not quite. But it can still pack a wallop."

Tony suddenly became dead serious. "At least I won't be as defenseless as poor Phil. I still won't forgive you for that, by the way. While you're here, you better not lay a finger on Pepper. She's got nothing to do with this. If you dare hurt her, you've got S.H.I.E.L.D. _and_ me coming after you with a vengeance. And when you're gone, Thor might miss you. I won't. Good night, I guess."

With that, Tony shut and bolted the door. Loki remained where he was, confused for a moment. Then he figured that this Phil must've been the man he had murdered at the Helicarrier. The one who had told him he lacked conviction. Truthfully, he didn't mean to murder the man.

'That fool had paid the price for getting in the way. To think he could challenge a god with a weapon he didn't even know how to use...it's sad, really. I better not bring him up during my stay here...the last thing I want is to rekindle the hostility of the Avengers.'

Loki changed out of his Asgardian attire and into the pajamas provided for him. The loose sleeves felt similar to that of his own robes, so he didn't mind them as much. He flopped down onto the bed and tried to sleep. He stretched out on his back and closed his eyes. Minutes later, he winced and turned over to his side. Lying on his back reminded him too much of his recent punishment. Despite the soft white mattress, Loki likened the surface to the hard slab of rock. Loki kept shifting the pillow and blankets every few minutes. His attempts to grow drowsy and comfortable proved futile. Finally, he quietly snarled in frustration and sat up. He reached for the TV remote, trying to comprehend all the little buttons and the commands written below them. The TV screen flickered to life as he found the power button.

Unlike Thor, Loki was a fast learner. He eventually knew how to surf channels and control the volume. His brow furrowed in confusion at hearing the foreign language channels.

'I have heard these Midgardian tongues during my last time in New York. Perhaps they're very common in this area, along with English. Too bad I can't understand them.'

Then he scoffed. 'Hmph...if I had succeeded in dominating Midgard, I would make everyone speak Alltongue. It would be much easier.'

His confusion quickly turned to disgust as he stumbled into Disney Channel, which featured an adolescent boy singing a song called "Baby." Loki flicked past the news channels without a second glance. He didn't care for Midgardians and their petty attempts at foretelling the weather. He likened the TV channels to books. Each one catered to a particular audience. (Though he didn't understand how anyone would appeal to the channel with the Bieber boy.) He just wished they were effectively categorized into titles and genres. There were so many channel numbers that he didn't know which one he would like if he pulled up a list. Loki was about to turn off the TV when he tried one more shift to another channel. He flicked to a channel called HBO, featuring something called "Game of Thrones." Intrigued, Loki set down the remote. He watched Game of Thrones until it ended, and he had to switch off the TV.

Finally he fell into a short, uneasy sleep. He dreamed of Jotunheim, as cold and unforgiving as the fictional land of Winterfell. He dreamed of a Frost Giant that pursued him relentlessly, across barren plains and craggy glaciers. There was no escaping it. Loki was too scared to glance behind. His legs were dead weight. Ice shards seemed to embed in his lungs with each desperate gasp of air. Suddenly a lance of ice stabbed through his back. Loki stopped and lurched back from the impact. The Frost Giant pulled him in closer, like a hunter reeling in a gutted fish. Loki gasped in horror. His own face leered back at him.

He lurched from his nightmare, his body wet with cold sweat. He breathed heavily and shuddered. Suddenly the room felt too hot and stuffy for him. He threw off the covers, unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the floor. He let the air cool his bare skin.

Loki closed his eyes again. He was pulled into yet another dream, this time he was surrounded by nothing but darkness and dying stars. His heart clenched. He knew this place. An all too familiar figure appeared from the shadows and slipped into view like a wraith.

The Other bared his blood-red teeth, his voice dripping with mocking scorn. "Hail to the king! How goes the realm you have so desired to conquer?"

Loki couldn't find the words to speak. He was sure that whatever excuses he came up with would be seen right through like a wall of poorly made glass.

"Taking over Earth should have been a pitifully easy task." The Other spat. "We had provided you a fine, fierce army of Chitauri and Leviathans. Yet you left them to be crushed like flies! You let the Tesseract slip between your fingers! You are no king. You are just a lost _boy_...a fool!"

The Other approached ever closer, and extended a bony hand. Loki couldn't move. He was frozen on the spot, helpless before the sinister being. He turned his gaze downward to see spidery blue fingers curl around his neck. His blood ran cold. The Other's fingers were tipped with metal claws.

His breath rattled over Loki's bare and vulnerable skin. "The follies of a fool do not go unpunished..."

The claws slashed at his throat.

Loki jolted awake once more, with cold dread and fear fresh in his stomach. He put a hand over his eyes. His fingers massaged his forehead in an attempt to quell the headache. Loki didn't need an unpleasant visit with the Other to remember his failure. He only knew the strange being to be the one who provided the army, as well as acting as liaison for some unknown higher entity. Loki had only cared about his part of the deal: to steal the Tesseract for the Other and his mysterious master, in return for an army needed to invade Earth. Now that he failed to do his end, he feared how the one from the other end would react. Worst of all, he was powerless on a strange realm. He wouldn't stand a chance against a swift and merciless retribution from a being whose name he did not even know. But, if Loki feared the Other, certainly that mysterious being was much more terrifying.

'Perhaps the Other does not know I'm hiding in Midgard. I must stop thinking, let alone dreaming, about seeing him.'

The thought brought him little comfort though. It will only be a matter of time before he was discovered, like all the lies and empty promises he had made throughout his life.

Loki survived the first day of his return to Midgard. But how much longer would he be able to endure the nightmares, the constant reminder that he was nothing but a monster and a disgraced fugitive? He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 2:30 AM. He groaned; it was going to be a long night.

* * *

Natasha couldn't sleep either.

A bout of fever, accompanied by a stomachache, hit her hard that night. It reminded her of the times she was conditioned to be resistant to many poisons. The Red Room administered small amounts of different toxins to her food and drinks. Not every day, of course...only when she was off from missions. The rations were pitifully small, so that Natasha could develop a fierce appetite and had no choice but to accept what she was given. They slowly worked up her immunity, giving her a range from date rape drugs to exotic and lethal poisons like sea snake venom. One could actually survive drinking venom. She would know. She had learned that the hard way.

Natasha tried to close her eyes and rest many times. She wasn't the type to toss and turn in her sleep; on the contrary, Natasha would lay stiff and still in her bed, as if paralyzed. She kept dreaming of herself as a small child, remembering the time she survived her first dose of poison at six years of age. The man had been so nice...he gave her a hot and soft chunk of bread after a grueling training exercise. It would make her strong, he said. She had accepted the food with a wide, baby-toothed smile. She asked if she could go back to her cell and eat with her teddy bear, Mr. Boris. It was the only remnant of her old house and memories of her mother and father before they died. It was also her only friend; all the other girls she trained with were mean and nasty. Natasha had to be mean too, so she could win her fights and survive. But she was always nice to Mr. Boris.

The man with the bread had said yes. The Red Room let her keep the toy as a way to reward the best fighter in her group. Natasha had skipped back to her designated room despite her aching legs. She hopped onto the bed, famished and eager to eat. She sunk her teeth into the bread without a second thought. But after she finished, she curled up and clutched her stomach. It started to hurt so much that Natasha began to cry and hug her teddy bear.

"Why does it hurt, Mr. Boris?" she sobbed. "What did I do wrong?"

As the years passed, the teddy bear would be replaced by a rifle. The poison grew worse then, and Natasha would find herself driven insane by the agony. She would clutch the cold barrel of the rifle in a death grip, and bite down on her lip to keep from groaning and crying. The weapon had become her source of comfort even in sleep. She would be in too much pain to even dream.

Now the poison became the very object of her nightmare. Natasha turned to the side and buried her face into the pillow, despite the pain from her scars. She tightly clutched at the bedsheets. Her chest heaved from small sobs and soft whimpers.

Natasha slipped into another nightmare, farther into her past life and deeper into the realm of haunting dreams. She was ten years old, and she still had Mr. Boris. She tried to keep that a secret; it would be humiliating for the other girls to find out she was so attached to the stuffed animal. Natasha was out for personal training one day. Some man from North Korea came in to teach her Hapkido. It was the Red Room's way of offering her special treatment. The rest of the girls were only given basic self-defense. The training was brutal and difficult, and the instructor was merciless. But Natasha came away proud of learning new things. She felt a mix of soreness and content as a result from a good workout. Her arms and wrists in particular throbbed, due to the instructor demonstrating what seem like one million ways to twist and break an opponent's limbs.

What Natasha needed was a good, long nap. When she had returned to her cell, she was horrified to find Mr. Boris gone. The traces of drowsiness had instantly left her. Natasha searched frantically in the rooms between the living quarters and the mess hall. She finally found her toy bear in the hands of her most hated enemy at the time: a blonde girl of her age named Yelena. Natasha stood paralyzed as Yelena swung Mr. Boris around for the rest of the girls to see.

"Look at what I found in her cell!" she exclaimed gleefully. "Her little secret, not so secret anymore! You should have thrown away this stuffed rag long ago, Romanova. Toys are for babies! The Red Room won't be happy to know that their favorite fighter still has a teddy bear."

The other girls laughed along dutifully. Yelena was a bully who picked on and scared everyone. Except for Natasha, who was too pissed off to care.

"Give him back to me now!" Natasha growled.

Yelena smirked as she continued to hold the teddy bear. "I have to say that it has a cute little hat. But it's not winter right now...is it?"

Natasha felt her blood run cold. Yelena pulled at the black fur hat and made a savage ripping motion, taking the head of Mr. Boris clean off. Natasha snapped.

She cried out like a wounded animal and threw herself at Yelena. The other girls scattered as the combatants rolled all over the floor. Yelena was no match for Natasha's unexpected attack. Natasha assaulted her with some Hapkido moves she just learned: side kicks to the stomach and hooks to the face. Tears ran down her face as she pummeled Yelena again and again. Natasha brought her down with a kick to the kneecap. In a panic, Yelena threw out her arm to protect herself. Natasha simply blocked and twisted it at a jarring, unnatural angle. She sunk her teeth into Yelena's arm and bit down hard. Yelena shrieked and cried as blood ran down her arm to stain her uniform.

"_Get her off_! She's going to kill me!" Yelena wailed.

A Red Room officer had finally come in to break up the fight. He hit Natasha hard in the head and pulled her off of Yelena. Natasha struggled in the man's arms, and finally stopped upon seeing what was left of Mr. Boris. More tears ran down her cheeks. She turned back to Yelena, and silently bared bloodied teeth at her.

Yelena had to get medical attention and a cast for her sprained and bleeding arm. She couldn't use it for days. Natasha had been sent to the Red Room administrator Ivan Petrovich, who also happened to be her surrogate father. She stood and still before his desk, hardly a head taller than the top. After what seemed like an eternity, Ivan looked up from his folded hands to meet her gaze. She had expected some harsh scolding, some kind of reprimand or punishment to justify what she did. Instead, Ivan talked to her in a gentle, paternal voice.

"At ease, dear Natalia. You are my daughter just as you are a soldier. Come."

At his beckoning gesture, Natasha relaxed her posture and promptly strode over to stand next to him behind his desk.

"Explain yourself, my dear."

"Yelena destroyed what I loved." Natasha spat. "She deserved it."

He had surprised her with a pat on her head. "I know how precious that toy was to you. It hurts, doesn't it?"

Natasha was losing her grip. Her stoic mask slipped as she made a visible effort to swallow. "Yes, sir." She finally managed to say.

"But do you see what happened? Do you see the consequence for having such an attachment? The more you love something, the more it hurts to lose it."

She nodded numbly. "I understand, sir."

"But you did well, Natalia. You did the right thing to defend what was important to you. Continue to fight hard. Nothing is more important than Mother Russia, our great homeland."

"I can love my country, but love no one and nothing else."

Ivan's warm smile softened his cold eyes. "Exactly. It's why we've been training you all these years. You are such a smart girl. What must you do when she is threatened by her enemies...Your enemies?"

Her answer came out flat and cold. "I will _destroy_ them."

"Good girl..."

Nataha's body still trembled from fever, and her heart ached at the thought of Mr. Boris. That teddy bear, lovingly made by her mother in their dirt-poor home, represented her childhood innocence. Both were brief, fragile...destroyed by the Red Room. Natasha's childhood ended for good that day. And just recently, she had lost the only shred of innocence, the only thing that kept her stained body and morality otherwise pure: her virginity.

Natasha spiraled further into her distorted dream world, unable to pull herself out of the dark whirlpool. Then, in her fevered and restless mind, her worst fears materialized.

She was back in that musky old basement. Alone with Joffrey. She was helpless on the floor as he approached her. Then she heard Loki's voice. His sinister snarl reverberated all around her as Joffrey's knife inched closer.

"I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you...slowly, intimately...in every way he knows you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work..."

Natasha uttered a strangled cry of horror. _Clint_ was holding the knife now. He looked confused and terrified as his gaze moved from the blood on her face to the blood on the knife.

"And when he screams, I'll split his skull!"

Natasha and Clint let loose a simultaneous silent scream.

She finally jolted back into reality, only to also enter a world of pain. She had jerked her legs, and now her ankles throbbed relentlessly. The pillow and bedsheets were drenched in her sweat. Her hospital gown clung to her like wet paper. Natasha stayed awake, unable to close her eyes and rest in peace. The pain in her head and stomach persisted. Just like all those years ago, she would have to take the brunt of it and endure it.

Why her dream had lumped Joffrey and Loki together, she did not know. Perhaps it was a warning to not trust the Trickster God too much. What if he was putting up a sympathetic act to let her guard down? She had seen it all before; she had done it herself many times. But for some odd reason, thinking of Loki and his little talk with her earlier lessened the pain. Natasha could do nothing but stay awake and wonder what he would do tomorrow, if he came back. It was an unsettling thought that kept her up for the rest of the night.

* * *

_It's so much fun to write about Loki interacting with Midgardian technology. I figured he would pick it up better than Thor, but would still be amused by our strange ways. xD_

_Joss Whedon is totally right about Nat having the most darkness out of all the Avengers. Her past is so dark, twisted, violent and sad. I want to explore it further in a separate fic...once I get Chelsea Grin done first! I'm determined not to fall into the trap of being swamped under multiple incomplete fics. Which has happened a couple of times before. Silly me...[Gum]_


	7. Trapped and Released

_Well, it seems that a lot of people liked the Avenged Sevenfold song I stuck in the last chapter. xD _

_i-am-agent-slate from Tumblr has volunteered to do the Natasha drawing! I look forward to seeing it! ^^ [Gum]_

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (7)**  
**Trapped and Released**

**"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust him."**  
**~Ernest Hemingway**

Loki had watched the sunrise through fogged and bleary eyes. Time seemed to drag on as the sun climbed over the horizon, and even longer so when it finally scaled past the skyscrapers. He decided to get out of bed and change. After rummaging through the closet, Loki managed to find a set of clothes he deemed decent: a dark gray suit with matching pants and an accompanying green scarf. He had forgotten how awfully inconvenient the task could be without the aid of magic. He splashed his face with cold water from the sink to shake off the grogginess. Loki had long been awake by the time Tony opened the door.

"Oh good, you're up. Jesus, your room is _cold_."

"Yes, I prefer it that way."

"Pepper's making breakfast downstairs. I can't let you out of my sight, so you better stick with me. I'm damn hungry."

Loki didn't want to admit that he too wanted food. A long, sleepless night plagued with nightmares had drained him of energy and increased his appetite. He followed Tony down the same route they had taken to get to his room. A pleasant aroma wafted from the kitchen area. They made it just in time for Pepper to add finishing touches to the breakfast she made.

"A dash of salt and some pepper...oh, morning boys."

"Hey, baby." Tony pecked a kiss on her cheek. "Ooh, those scrambled eggs look great. They're all for me, right?"

Pepper held the plate away from Tony's reach and pinned him down with an admonishing stare. "No, Loki and Happy are having some too. Learn to share. Go sit yourselves down...I need to get the bacon next. There's already toast and butter on the table."

Nevertheless, the men politely waited for Pepper to join them before they began eating. Loki was the last to dig in, as he eyed his plate uncertainly.

"I'll eat yours if you don't want it," Tony volunteered. He grunted when Pepper gently whacked him on his arm.

"Quit being so rude to our guest!" she exclaimed.

"He's not a guest. He's a hostage."

Pepper shook her head before taking a bite. She glanced at Loki, whose hands slowly fluttered to the fork and knife.

"It's not poisoned, if that's what you're worried about." she said. "I know scrambled eggs isn't a meal fit for a king, but...I figured I would make your morning with my signature dish."

Loki merely nodded. He took up his silverware and cut neatly into his breakfast, making Tony and Happy look like slobbering pigs in comparison.

"How's the food, Loki?"

"...Adequate."

She took it as a reluctant complement. "You're welcome."

"Are you kidding me? This is great!" Tony declared. "One more reason to love you, Pepper."

"I second him on that." Happy said.

After finishing breakfast, they drove in Tony's car to visit Natasha. Everyone was quiet and hesitant at first, knowing that she had turned away their company before. Tony and Pepper were thrilled when the nurse told them she could take visitors. Tony made Loki wait outside while he and Pepper went into Natasha's room first. They didn't take long.

When Tony exited, he said to Loki, "Okay…your turn, I guess. Pepper and I didn't want to hang around too long and make her uncomfortable. I suggest you do the same, Rock of Ages. Make it quick."

Loki rose to his feet; slowly and carefully, he entered her room. He greeted her with a small nod.

"Good morning, Agent Romanoff."

He studied her, taking note of the faint bruises under her eyes. "I take it that you had a restless night? Or more than one?" He shook his head. "No matter. Perhaps I should not pry into your business…like the way I've done last time. You can't answer me anyway, so it'll do you and me no good to ask questions."

Natasha regarded him silently. She was still on her guard. She never took her eyes off of him as he occasionally shifted from standing up to sitting down to pacing around. He found her gaze intense and unsettling. It almost made him uncomfortable. He could imagine that she felt the same way. They were like two wolves—tensed and bristling, made to share the same space. Loki hardly broke the silence, only to ramble aimlessly about the mundane Midgardian life. Soon he would run out of things to talk about, and he would lapse back into silence once more. His eyes wandered around the room, yet they always seemed to linger on Natasha's scars. She noticed, but she didn't seem to mind. The skin no longer bore an angry red color. But with the fading of red, the black stitches stood out more pronounced and etched on her face.

"You seem to be healing quite nicely," he remarked. "As expected from a strong woman like you."

He was going to ask her how much longer until she would be able to walk, but he held his tongue. She probably didn't know either. Her injuries went beyond the scars on her face and her broken ankle, that much he knew from Thor. Those kinds of wounds would take much longer to heal. Loki had never heard of or seen rape within the Asgardian court, though stories circulate concerning victims who were mostly commonfolk or slaves. It was a horrid and disgusting act, that much he knew. Loki was no stranger to killing people, though he wondered how those who rape could bear to carry out something that is so inhuman and primal. At least he had made killing and suffering a quick affair, to snuff out one's life rather than prolong it to reduce that person into an animal. Natasha had been unfortunate to endure such an experience, and because of that he felt sorry for her. To a certain extent.

'That time she had outsmarted me in my own game, rendered my silver-tongue to lead with her own…it still doesn't sit well with me. No one has ever bested me in the art of lying, let alone a _woman_. She will not expect my fullest sympathy anytime soon.'

His mood gradually soured, and he was filled with bitterness to the point he no longer wanted to remain in the room. He turned away to leave.

"Good day," he said curtly.

He could feel her eyes on his back as he left. Tony and Pepper had waited for him outside, and now the billionaire folded his arms and gave Loki an expectant gaze.

"Well? Crazy as it sounds, but did she warm up to you yet?"

Loki scoffed. "I'd sooner believe the coming of Ragnarok than that."

"The coming of what?"

The Trickster God shook his head irritably. "Never mind. I suppose we're going back to the tower now?"

"Well, we can't just go places and let you walk among the very people you tried to destroy."

Loki bit back a sigh of dismay. He hated traveling in a car, even if it was a nice and expensive one like Tony's. He spared a momentary glance at Natasha's room before trailing behind Tony and Pepper, feeling like a downtrodden dog.

* * *

After suffering from sleepless nights, Natasha needed the company. When Tony and Pepper showed up, she could tell they really wanted to cheer her up. Pepper worried and fretted, asking Natasha if she had been getting enough sleep and something to eat. As always, Natasha would be moved by the other woman's compassion. She had looked away guiltily, unable to answer. Tony had looked as if he was sorely tempted to make a joke many times.

"I want to make you laugh and smile—for real, you know." He awkwardly gestured to his mouth. "But I don't want to—uh, hurt you." He had scratched at his goatee, glanced at Pepper, then said to Natasha, "Well, I guess we better get going and leave you in peace. We don't want to be a bother to you or anything like that."

They excused themselves and left, but not without Pepper giving Natasha a quick but careful kiss on the cheek.

Clint had been visiting her the most, and he was always careful not to make her feel patronized or pitied by him. She wished she could confide with him about her nightmares. But she doubt he would understand, even though he would definitely listen. Despite the fact that he too was once a criminal, Clint was a Boy Scout compared to her; Natasha had lived a long time, and her mid-twenties appearance masked that fact. Serum administered by the Red Room, a perversion of the very same formula used for Steve Rogers in America, gave her an unnaturally long lifespan and prolonged youthful prime. Red Room and S.H.I.E.L.D. data files hold her real birth date: 1928. As of the year 2012, she was roughly 84 years old, still as strong and young-looking as ever. Even though Steve was older than her by a couple of years, he had been in ice while she had been running rampant in Russia...lying, cheating, stealing and killing. Each murder would be carefully planned and brilliantly done. In that aspect, she could consider herself a serial killer. She took no pride in that.

Natasha was convinced she must be having some sort of breakdown. Must be a long-delayed PTSD, she thought.

She didn't have the appetite to eat much. Sometimes she felt numb and detached to her surroundings. The lack of sleep didn't help. While she became desperate for company, she still felt she couldn't relate to any of them. Natasha hated being alone more than anything. Without her comrades, teammates and friends, she was left to fend for herself and the demons of her past. No matter how hard she tried, they kept resurfacing to haunt her in every shape or form. Whenever daylight streamed from the glass window and onto her bed, a sense of panic would slowly build up within her. Natasha's entire body would feel as if she were lit on fire, fire as bright and hot as the one that had killed her parents in Stalingrad all those years ago. Her mother and father…she couldn't remember their names…couldn't even remember their faces. But she knew they had been there…and left just as quickly.

Even when Natasha had requested a nurse to shut the curtains of the window, the sense of panic and dread did not go away. In place of fire were shadows, ones that reminded her of the darkness of the Red Room. She and the other girls, orphans off the streets just like her, were no more than lab rats trained for killing…and tampered by technology to help them do so. The Red Room had always been such a shady place, enclosed everywhere and shut off from the outside world. It was not a place she wanted to remember.

'Post-traumatic stress disorder, claustrophobia, fear of being alone, avoiding sunlight…damn it, what's wrong with me?'

Natasha used to enjoy keeping to herself. That was when she had been able to push away memories, sights and sounds of her past. She used to love the silence. Now the silence wasn't so pleasant anymore. She fully understood that her friends, much as they wanted to, couldn't visit her all the time. They were busy with their own lives, their own worries. Still, she would give anything to have someone, anyone, by her side. She expected Clint's face to appear in her mind among anyone else's. He was her best friend, after all. She knew him longer than the rest of her teammates. So why was she thinking of Loki as well?

* * *

A week passed since visiting Natasha. Loki spent his days cooped up in his room, with nothing to do but watch the television from sunrise to sunset. He couldn't even take a nap without thinking with dread about the Other and his mysterious threats. So Loki willed himself to stay awake and find something to do. The only thing to read in the room was an instruction manual for using the TV. He read that from front to back until he knew everything about the damn thing. The only time he was allowed to be out of his room was for meals. Even then, he never ate much. As soon as Loki would finish, Tony would send him straight to his room. Eventually, Loki was trusted enough to be allowed roaming the tower's general rooms. He was banned from entering Tony's labs, since the billionaire would sooner die than let the God of Mischief touch and mess with his stuff.

Pepper unofficially signed up for the babysitting job. Might as well, since she frequently saw the God of Mischief as he was forced to hang around Tony and wherever he went. Sometimes Tony was too busy to babysit Loki. He would bustle all over the Avengers Tower, taking care of housekeeping and occasionally disappearing for hours down at his lab. He wouldn't say why. That left Pepper alone with Loki. She and Tony had nothing to worry about; Loki posed as much harm as a fly. He really was next to nothing without his magic, and Pepper could see on his face how much he hated the fact.

Tony had to do something down in the lab...again. Pepper and Loki were left to hang around the penthouse lounge. Loki stretched out on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Pepper was at the other side of the room, pouring drinks. When he turned his head to her, she held up an empty cup.

"Want a drink?"

"No thank you." he replied briskly.

She shrugged and poured a glass of scotch for herself.

Loki lifted his arm to look at the peculiar gadget strapped to his wrist. Tony had done the honors of drawing Loki's blood and installing the thing.

"What is this?" Loki had asked with distaste.

"You think S.H.I.E.L.D. and I can just let you run around like a dog with no leash? This thing monitors your location and every move. All my tracking stuff now has your DNA signature. Including the stuff that communicates with Director Fury. Try to do anything suspicious, with your magic or not, and you got S.H.I.E.L.D. coming after you faster than you can say world domination!"

"This isn't funny." Loki had muttered.

"Maybe to you. I think it's hilarious." Tony had tapped at the tracker fondly. "And I've always wanted to test this baby. It's hard to find volunteers, though. Since I gotta take your blood and all."

Loki muttered a silent curse and returned his scowl to the ceiling. He felt trapped, irritated and utterly bored. He found no amusement in any of Stark's advanced toys.

"Does he not have any books in this damn place? Can I not find comfort and solace between the pages of a book?"

Pepper looked startled and confused at Loki's outburst. "Tony doesn't buy hard copies. They waste space and collect dust. According to him, anyway. JARVIS keeps a massive collection of e-books, though. Like a Kindle."

"JARVIS? Kindle? I don't understand what you're trying to say." he snapped. "Midgardians..."

"Hey, JARVIS?" Pepper called.

"Yes, Miss Potts? How may I be of service?"

She couldn't help but feel amused as Loki bolted upright, looking around for the source of the artificial butler's voice.

"Loki would like to read a book."

"Very well. Here are selections of newly published and bestselling works, brought to you by ."

Loki lurched back in surprise as a large blue webpage spread out before him, with holographic images of many titles. He recognized none of them, nor did he find them interesting.

"Anything you like, sir?"

"No," Loki retorted. He felt stupid talking to something he couldn't see. He tried to think. "Do you happen to have...Beowulf?"

"Yes, sir. An excellent choice, if I may add."

The holographic e-book materialized before Loki, and he held it tentatively in his hands. He felt like flipping through an invisible, weightless book, despite the text in front of him. He quickly glanced at the ceiling, not sure where he should direct his talking.

"Erm...thank you."

"You're welcome, sir."

Like the TV, Loki quickly got used to handling the e-book. About three minutes into his reading, Pepper spoke up.

"You've heard of Beowulf?"

He shrugged. "It's the closest thing to Asgardian literature. It has come to my mind that the Midgardians of that time, ones you call the 'Anglo-Saxons,' no longer write these works after their conversion to this Christian religion. They no longer worshiped and believed in us since then."

"I didn't know that. I only read Beowulf in high school."

"The whole thing?"

"Pfff. Are you kidding me? It would take me a couple of years to finish that chunky book."

"It worked for me. I'm sure you could do the same if you had the time."

"You...you've read the _whole_ book?"

He looked up from the e-book, and smirked at the newfound respect in Pepper's eyes. "Indeed. This is my third time."

"Third time...? How old are you, exactly? You look like you're in your early thirties. But something tells me that looks are deceiving."

Loki nodded. "We age very slowly once we reach adulthood. My 1030th name day will be approaching this winter."

Pepper's eyes widened and she nearly spat out her drink. "_You're 1030 years old_?"

"Not quite. 1029, going on 1030. Thor is older, he's around 1050."

Pepper didn't speak for a few seconds. Loki guessed she was either having a hard time swallowing, or a hard time believing. Or both. "Good God. You two have been around for quite a while."

Pepper and Loki fell silent as they returned to their own activities. After finishing her drink, Pepper kept herself busy by keeping inventory of Tony's stock of liquor. She took note of several bottles that were close to empty, and jotted down a list for future grocery shopping.

"That Tony...always finishing the bourbon first." she muttered to herself.

Loki decided to stop reading at the beginning of Grendel's appearance. "I think I will have a drink now."

"Sure. Help yourself." Pepper replied.

Loki left the e-book hovering in the air as he rose and walked over. Along the way he spotted a wide, cracked dent on the floor. It had been preserved and laminated. He saw a small plague accompanying the man-shaped hole. Loki raised an eyebrow when he read the Gothic font. _"Where the Other Guy Kicketh the Ass of Loki."_

Pepper saw what he was staring at. She appeared to look both amused and embarrassed. "Tony insisted to keep that part of the floor untouched. To uh...commemorate the first victory of the Avengers."

"I see that," Loki replied dryly.

He poured some vodka into a glass in silence. Then he finally asked, "Why are you so kind to me?"

Pepper shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be? You seem like a decent, smart guy with manners. When you don't have your magic to destroy things, anyway. And you seem to be of help to Natasha."

"You think so?"

"Well, she doesn't kick you out of her room. That's a good thing."

Tony emerged from the elevator, looking a little weary from long hours of working in the lab. He pointed an accusing finger at Loki. "Hey, you. Stay away from my girlfriend."

Pepper shrugged. "You're the one who left me with him in the first place. Besides, we were just chatting and having a drink."

"Well, chatting is over. Finish your drink and go to your room, Reindeer Games."

Loki had no choice but to follow his orders. He was disappointed to see that HBO still hasn't released a new episode for Game of Thrones. He switched to the Nickelodeon channel, which featured revived episode reruns of Invader Zim. It featured a boxy green alien and his dysfunctional mechanical slave. The show seemed bizarre yet amusing to him. He figured that the show's radical, 2-dimensional visual format must be some sort of art style formulated by the humans. Loki decided to watch a few episodes. He chuckled many times at the dark humor, as well as the randomly crazy antics of the waffle-loving, pig-worshiping GIR. As Loki watched, he could see himself in the alien named Zim. The similarities were uncanny. Both had dreams to dominate Earth. Both would do anything crazy or delusional to obtain it. Both even had a servant with glassy blue eyes.

Loki watched Zim pluck out the eyes of his "bestest friend," and he had to turn off the TV. He did not want to be reminded of his past sins, particularly that incident.

He sighed, flopped back onto the mattress and stared out the window. The beauty of a fast-approaching sunset was lost upon him. His heart sunk at the thought of yet another sleepless night. He yearned to be anywhere else but the confines of his temporary room. But he had no ability to do so. Everywhere he went beyond Stark's tower, which happened to be just the hospital, required transportation in a car. Loki remembered the sights of New York's Central Park, from the last time he had been on Earth. He never lingered there for long, but he remembered the green open space, a rare sight surrounded by sprawling gray buildings. He'd rather walk around there in free, quiet peace than be forced to endure more nightmares within the trap of his room.

Loki had been good and obedient. But he highly doubted he would earn the trust of Stark so soon. Even with the tracker, the chances were slim to none with Loki asking for permission to go out. It was also a matter of pride and dignity that further discouraged Loki. Stark would certainly ask for Loki's possible ulterior motives. And when saying a harmless walk in the park wasn't enough, Loki would have to confess his sleepless nights like a troubled child. It would be humiliating to even ask Stark in the first place. He was a prince of Asgard. Princes don't ask, they command. He hadn't asked for anything since he was a small child, asking Frigga if he and Thor could play in the courtyard or ride their colts around the palace.

'Yet this is no better...I'm trapped in this room like a child being punished and made to skip supper.'

Loki remembered his fair share of such nights. He bitterly recalled the time he had slipped a scorpion into Thor's breeches. Least to say, Thor couldn't bend down, let alone sit on his ass, without crying out in pain. Loki had winded up in the same predicament, after Frigga had given him quite a beating and sent him to his room. He didn't expect such a harsh action from her. It took all he could not to cry when he tried to sleep. Frigga had instantly apologized, of course. While he had been denied supper, he finally fell asleep in her lap as she sang to him and stroked his hair. She fretted after young Loki and Thor until they recovered from their respective injuries, and were back to their vigorous and mischievous selves again.

A light rapping sounded from the glass window. Loki turned his head, and he sat up in surprise. Thor stood behind the glass. But that wasn't what shocked him. Perched on Thor's shoulders were a pair of large ravens. Not just any ravens...these two bore Dwarf-forged golden bands on their legs, a sign of regality and importance in Asgardian animals. There was no doubt: the ravens of Odin were here on Midgard.

Loki walked over to open the window and step outside. "Thor? How did you find me?"

"It was hardly a task, Brother. Stark's tower is full of glass windows for me to read the entire building like a book. I located your floor soon enough when I saw you laying around, with nothing to do."

Loki's reply was a sarcastic drawl. "So you've noticed how much fun I was having." Finally, he looked to the ravens perched on Thor's shoulders. "Huginn and Muninn? What are you doing here?"

Odin's ravens gazed at him through dark, beady eyes. "We come with good tidings from the Allfather." Huginn said.

"Yes, the Allfather comes with good tidings." Muninn said.

"No, that is wrong," Huginn snapped. "_We_ come with good tidings _from_ the Allfather."

Loki rolled his eyes. For a pair of all-seeing ravens, they sure were annoying. One of the things he didn't miss from Asgard were memories of their raucous squabbles as they fought over how they delivered news to Odin. They were like old men with beaks and wings.

"Get on with it," Loki said impatiently. "What does Odin have to say that's good for me?"

"He has decided to grant you some of your magic back."

"Yes yes, your magic is granted."

Thor and Loki were astounded. "Why?"

"I repeat that it is only some."

"Yes yes, only some."

"Muninn and I have kept a close eye on you since your return to Midgard..."

"Indeed, your return to Midgard made Huginn and I keep a close eye."

Huginn rapped at his partner sharply with his beak. "Shut up, you old bird! I am trying to talk!"

"You're no younger, you ancient sack of feathers."

Huginn shook his head as Muninn crossly ruffled and preened his feathers. "Anyways, the Allfather has sent us the ability to open one of your gateways, as a sign of trust."

"Gateways? What do you mean?" Thor asked.

"Which one?" Loki pressed eagerly.

"Teleportation."

"But only that, and nothing else for the time being."

Loki's heart slightly sunk. But it was better than nothing. It was enlightening to hear that Odin is beginning to trust the God of Mischief.

Loki extended his arm. Huginn and Muninn shuffled from Thor's shoulder to perch on Loki's arm.

"Are you ready?" the ravens asked.

Loki nodded, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Huginn raised his neck so that he leveled his beak to the center of Loki's forehead, while Muninn lowered himself to have his beak almost touch Loki's chest. Light blue energy, swirling and brimming with pure magical essence, emanated from their beaks. Thor's confusion turned into awe as the ravens' beaks simultaneously touched Loki's temple and chest. Loki gasped from the sudden rush of power. It was over as quickly it had started. Huginn and Muninn drew back. Loki panted lightly and blinked several times.

"What did the ravens do to you, brother? I don't understand."

"I have my magic back, as they said. But not to the fullest extent." Loki took a deep breath as he tried to explain. He'd better start from square one. "The concept of using energy and magic...is similar to what the Midgardians call using chi or chakra. Our bodies are basically matrices of energy reserves. The reserves are also called gateways, because they serve as such when we project energy from various points of our bodies. As you know, magic is defined into many categories. Shape-shifting, elemental manipulation, healing, the dark arts of necromancy and the like...the list is endless. A true master of magic can tap into all gateways that are needed for many skills. But magic uses energy, therefore it is finite. I cannot just use magic forever. Naturally, the cost takes its toll on my body, especially if I use magic unwisely."

Loki's brow furrowed. "Sometimes...in extreme situations, one could use so much magic at once, especially for dark arts, at the price of one's LIFE."

Thor took this in with curiosity and careful listening. "How many gateways can you use?"

"I do not know the precise number. It's not a simple key and lock system. Multiple energy reserves can be used for one particular skill. I must admit I am far from the invincible, all-powerful sorcerer. There's plenty of skills I have yet to learn. But I can do quite a bit. You know that teleportation, duplication and illusions are my specialties."

Thor stared at Loki thoughtfully. "If you can only teleport, does that mean Father is giving back your magic piece by piece?"

Loki paused to think it over. Then he made a tentative nod. "I suppose you could say that. Not a surprise that he's taking extra precautions."

"How did it feel to get some of your magic back?"

"It felt rather...refreshing, and liberating. I felt a part of myself unlocking. It's...hard to explain. One has to be a sorcerer or mage to fully understand the experience and feeling."

Huginn and Muninn had been surprisingly quiet throughout the brothers' conversation. Now that Thor and Loki fell silent, the ravens ruffled their wings.

"Well...I suppose it's time we head off."

"Yes yes, to complete our scouting duties for the Allfather."

Loki looked at the ravens. "Tell Odin...I said thank you."

The all-seeing birds acknowledged him with a nod. They dipped their heads to the brothers in respect before taking to the sky. The twin streaks of black disappeared with a series of loud caws.

Thor took his gaze from the sunset-streaked heavens to his adopted brother. "I must get going as well. Jane is expecting me for dinner, and I must go home to dress in proper Midgardian attire."

There was slight guilt in his eyes. "Are you sure you're all right with staying here? I do not want to make you feel that I'm abandoning you."

Loki shrugged. "I have no choice in the matter. But don't fret over me…I will be just fine, Thor."

Thor seemed to sense his adopted brother's unhappiness. He briefly patted a hand on Loki's shoulder. "All right, then. Have a good evening."

"Uh...Thor?" he blurted.

"Yes brother?"

Loki hesitated while Thor waited for his reply. Then he said, "Have a good time."

Thor's wide smile creased his features. "Thank you."

With a few powerful swings of Mjolnir, Thor vaulted off into the air. Loki retreated back into his room and slid the glass doors shut. For the first time in days, excitement and energy stirred within him, threatening to burst. He did his best to restrain himself.

'I'll have to practice first, to make sure it works. Teleporting from one side of the room to the other sounds safe.'

He studied his destination: the corner closest to the bathroom door. Loki breathed in and closed his eyes. He felt the familiar rush of summoning energy needed for his task. Then he felt himself dematerializing from his spot. Seconds later he reappeared. To his satisfaction he ended up right where he wanted to be. Loki walked over to his bed and sat down, trying to assess the endless possibilities of where he could go.

It felt good...so damn good to feel the magic coursing through his body again.

A grin spread slowly on his face. 'I know just the place to go.'

* * *

_The Invader Zim episode mentioned in this fic is called "Bestest Friend." Zim gets a new friend at school who quickly turns into a creepy loyalist stalker. It got on his nerves. So Zim had his eyeballs removed. That's nothing compared to "Dark Harvest," when Zim steals various organs from his classmates to appear more human._

_Huginn and Muninn were fun to write about, since they basically turn around each other's sentences. Or at least, Muninn does. :P  
_

_Loki getting his magic back is derived from the Avatar concept of energybending and the Naruto concept of chakra. As for Loki and Thor's age, I guesstimated. Neither Marvel nor Norse myths gave out specific numbers. The war between the Jotuns and Asgardians, aka when Loki was a baby, had to be at least a thousand years ago. Loki's an old, old guy. He sure don't look like one though. :3 _

_What is Loki planning this time? You'll have to find out in Chapter 8: Insomniacs! [Gum]_


	8. Insomniacs

_Sorry for the delay...I had to move in and settle down for college. That, and I've been Tumblring like crazy. I regret nothing though...that Avengers gag reel was pure gold. Tom Hiddleston is such a hoot. xD At 7,660 words, this is my longest chapter yet. Enjoy! [Gum]  
_

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (8)**  
**Insomniacs**

**"I don't wanna live, I don't wanna breathe  
'Less I feel you next to me  
You take the pain I feel  
Waking up to you never felt so real.**

**I don't wanna sleep, I don't wanna dream**  
**'Cause my dreams don't comfort me the way you make me feel**  
**Waking up to you never felt so real."**  
**~"Comatose" by Skillet**

Loki pictured his next destination in his mind. Summoned energy emanated from his core. He felt himself dematerializing from the Stark tower room. Moments later he opened his eyes, and smiled at his success. It felt good to feel the magic course through his veins again, like water through his body after a long, long walk through a desert.

Then he almost jumped back in surprise. He was startled to find Natasha awake. He could tell by the faint, wet reflection in her eyes. Obviously she looked surprised by Loki's sudden and untimely appearance. But not to the point she completely flipped out. Natasha Romanoff was not one to be easily surprised.

"Can't sleep?" Loki asked.

She shook her head.

"Me neither."

He made his way to her in slow hesitation as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness. "Don't fret. I only have the power to teleport."

"You are probably wondering why I've come at this hour."

Why _did_ he come? Before the arrival of Odin's ravens, Loki had yearned for freedom and open space elsewhere. The darkened confines of Natasha's hospital room went against his wishes. What motivated him to teleport here? Surely not kindness or compassion.

"The slightest trace of curiosity, I suppose..." he murmured aloud.

Her eyes followed Loki as he pulled up a seat next to the bedside. Only the dim light of the heart monitor illuminated what was left to see in her room. He studied Natasha, wondering what went on in her mind. Or what ailed her.

"Could you be having...nightmares?" he softly asked.

She hesitated, then nodded. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes.

"Me too. Otherwise I would be cooped up in Stark's tower, sleeping like a baby."

He wondered how long Natasha had been having these sleepless nights. He wondered too, about what kind of nightmares she had. No matter how different their dreams might be, both had demons that kept them awake every night.

He noticed that Natasha had been sweating. He heard her breathing heavily despite the calmness of her face. Though she probably never moved from her bed the whole day, Natasha looked exhausted.

"Feeling hot?"

She weakly nodded. He remembered the Avengers telling him that she experienced bouts of fever. That probably contributed to her insomnia as well. He could imagine how uncomfortable and miserable she felt, trapped under the thin bedsheets that couldn't protect her from the chills, and at the same time amplified her body heat.

"Perhaps this would help," he murmured. He reached out for her hand. Her fingers twitched away for a second, then she stilled to let him envelop her hand in his. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as she watched his skin turn blue. She looked up to return his red-eyed gaze. He made a little shrug.

"This is who I am."

He scrutinized her face. It was hard to read in the mask of darkness, and the mask of her own features. He leaned forward, closer to her.

His whisper was low and tense. "You must tell me...somehow...are you frightened of me?"

Truth to be told, she had good reason to be. He towered over her, a blue menacing figure with red eyes boring into her own. Natasha gazed back at him silently. She didn't pull away from his touch. But she didn't embrace it either. Loki didn't know what to make of it. He needed some kind of response. He had to know what she thought of him. Was he truly the monster she had said he was?

He asked again, with desperation clear in his voice. "Are you frightened of me? I need an answer...please."

Finally she shook her head. That took him by surprise. Disbelief and doubt was thick in his reply. "You are sure of that? How do I know you mean it?"

And Natasha fixed him with such an intense and open stare that Loki felt inclined to believe her.

All that honesty thrown at his direction made him feel vulnerable. He and Natasha had been a lengthy game of distrust and deceit, two masters attempting to conquer the other over what both did best. This new turn Natasha seemed to make took Loki off guard. And suddenly, he had the overwhelming urge to tell her. After his little confession about his story with the Dwarves, he didn't think he would go any further, any deeper. Now he was on the verge to do so.

Before he knew it, he began telling her everything he had found out about his origin, his true heritage. He talked about his days as king on Asgard, when Odin had succumbed to sleep and Loki was free to do as he pleased. He had intended to send Jotunheim into oblivion, along with their king...and his true father. Thor had put an end to that in his noble, heroic way. No doubt he had garnered more praise and recognition as he always did, while Loki had faced rejection and a crushing blow to his psyche the moment he let go of Odin's spear. It felt good to just talk to someone. Even if that someone was Natasha.

Loki expected all the bitterness to fuel his hatred and rage. But the more he went on, the more weary he felt. He couldn't think of Thor and pour all his hate and envy toward the image. He was too defeated and tired to do even that.

His voice was low and muted, seeming heavy as if he had fought a thousand battles. "My-Thor's mother said she and Odin never told me because they didn't want me to feel different. But deep down I've always known. Perhaps not with exact certainty...but I knew. I have lived for years in denial, fearing the worst and hoping for the best...that Thor, his friends and the entirety of Asgard could recognize me as a part of them. All my life, until now, I've always grown up with the fact I was an Asgardian, a prince, a son of Odin. Someone above crude, cold and war-loving barbarians like the Frost Giants. I was wrong."

He made a black-humored chuckle. "Ironic, isn't it? You and the rest of Midgard could say I have become just that. My whole life has been a lie."

Natasha's brow furrowed. He looked at her curiously until he realized she was trying to move her other arm. Burdened with the IV and stiff from prolonged lack of movement, Natasha unsteadily gestured at herself by placing her hand over her chest.

"You too?" Loki inquired.

She nodded solemnly.

"Then perhaps we have more in common than I had thought."

He had claimed that Agent Barton told him everything. In truth, it was simply a lie to get under her skin. Perhaps he had only peeled away the surface. Natasha was a woman shrouded in layers of mystery and secrecy. She couldn't talk now, but Loki had no doubt that she too had her own story to tell. He wondered just how her life had been a lie, as she implied. What parts were true? And what were false? Could it be..? That just like him, she had an issue with her identity from the very beginning?

Something pale shifted underneath him, and Loki looked down to see Natasha brushing her fingers softly on his blue skin. His breath hitched at her touch.

'In order for her to trust me...I must trust her first.'

Natasha looked a bit apprehensive...but more curious than afraid. She traced the patterns that lined his arm. Loki never really took time to observe his own Jotun form. He explored with her, his gaze following her fingers as they made a slow yet oddly soothing trail on his skin. He knew next to nothing about the patterns all over his body. Loki was never keen on studying much of Jotun culture...if he could call it that. He could only assume they were some sort of tribal markings or tattoos; for all he knew, Frost Giants were divided in numerous nomadic groups among the frozen wastes. No doubt he must belong to a highborn clan, since he was a son of Laufey. They were all the same to him. From the king down to the lowest slave, they were all monsters in his eyes.

Loki scowled, his mood darkening. 'I'm like the raven who calls the crow black.'

Natasha's touch suddenly felt irritating to him. He snatched his arm away and glared at the floor.

'Why did I even come here? To offer comfort to my former enemy? And here I am, looking even more like a weakling and a fool.'

He felt even angrier when he thought of his confession to Natasha. Whatever possessed him to deluge his darkest secrets to her?

'What does it matter? In the end, my life means nothing to everyone around here. The Other will find me...him and his dreadful general. The solace of this planet will not shield me from their wrath. Enough with false hopes. Whatever love Odin and Thor claim to have for me means naught. I will die soon...as a coward, a traitor...a _monster_. An unwanted, unloved and hated creature...'

Dread, rage, frustration, bitterness, and most of all, fear, overwhelmed Loki to the point it seized and paralyzed him to the core. He succumbed to the pressure, feeling his icy facade crack. Tears welled in his eyes. He trembled and shook, and the tears finally fell. They felt like snake's venom on his face all over again. It was torture...excruciating, heart-wrenching.

He wasn't sure why exactly he was crying. All his worst fears seemed to suddenly bubble and pour out like a flood. In the eyes of Asgard he would forever be the son of Laufey, a Frost Giant who wasn't even a real Frost Giant. In the eyes of Midgard he would forever be remembered as nothing short of a devil. Loki loved it whenever he induced fear and terror among others. So why did he feel this way?

Loki finally remembered Natasha, as she made her presence known by taking him by the arm and pulling him close to her. He was too distressed and bewildered to resist. Natasha leaned and pressed her weak, feverish body against his side. He wrapped a tentative arm around her waist. Her head shifted to nestle against his chest. Loki hastily wiped at his face. He tightened his hold around her to return her completely unexpected gesture of comfort.

No words exchanged between them. No words were needed. Both stung deeply from their injuries, however different their respective wounds may be, as were the situations of how they received them. It was this that called for the need to offer each other comfort.

The only woman Loki ever had in his arms had always been his mother, whenever she took him in for a sweet, genuine hug filled with love and affection he so desperately needed. Those times when a drunk and good-spirited Thor would encouragingly push a maiden towards Loki didn't count. The girls would always shrink away from his touch. They preferred being in Thor's company rather than Loki's. He lacked the big, strong hands and golden-faced perfection. Loki was too slender, too pale...too different. There was also another time, during his adolescent years, when Sif actually hugged Loki...though it was more of a flash of a vicelike grip, when Fandral had dared her to do it and Sif had complied with brave reluctance.

Having Natasha close by his side felt so wrong. Yet it felt so...right. She didn't pull away from him. Her fevered trembling settled down the longer she remained next to Loki. Feeling her so close to him, he finally saw just how small and vulnerable she was. She may have a temper and vigor as bright and fiery as Sif's, but Natasha lacked the Asgardian height and strength. It made Loki admire her all the more. She was proof of how wrong he was about Midgardians and their incompetence. Even in this weakened physical state, Natasha had the courage to touch _him_, the man who had come close to bending her world to his will.

Natasha's breathing gradually drew out in long and even. He glanced down to see her fully asleep. His eyes shifted to the window. He saw the darkness thinning, like a fog lifting, as the hours went by. Dawn was fast approaching. It suddenly occurred to him that his place was elsewhere. As softly and gently as he could, Loki moved Natasha's head and shoulders away from him so she could lay back in bed. Her curls were dark, red and soft between his fingers. She stirred with a soft moan and her eyes fluttered open.

"I'm sorry, but it's about time I go..." he murmured to her. "I'll let you continue your rest. Farewell."

Loki rose to his feet, walked away from the bed and summoned energy to teleport. Her half-asleep face was the last to disappear from his field of vision.

* * *

Natasha watched Loki disappear from her room. She wished she could tell him about her own nightmares. Still, she felt strangely better. Her fever waned, and drowsiness, not fatigue, settled upon her like a second pillow. She uttered a soft sigh of content and closed her eyes. Finding out Loki's true heritage certainly threw the whole scheme of things into a entirely new perspective. It made him so different from her, and yet...at the same time, they were alike in many ways she hadn't known before.

Perhaps she could finally get a peaceful sleep, knowing he won't be there to haunt her dreams as she had feared. She slipped into dreamless oblivion, though she could still feel the coolness of Loki's skin on her body. And it felt good.

* * *

Loki successfully returned to his bedroom. Barely seconds later, his door slid open. Loki whirled around to see Tony barging into the room, looking flustered, panicked and pissed all at once.

"Hey, you! Where the hell have you been?"

"I've been in here the whole time, Stark."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Reindeer Games. Here, let me see your tracker."

Loki willingly offered his arm, which Tony seized. The billionaire worked furiously at the buttons and groaned. To Loki's amusement, he saw that it appeared to be powered off or malfunctioned.

Tony fumed. "What did you do? You fucked it up! Obviously you've been anywhere _but_ the bedroom. Otherwise the tracker would be running just fine. JARVIS came in to inform me at like, two in the freakin' morning, that your DNA signature just magically disappeared from his surveillance."

Loki would be laughing at Tony's rage, and unintended pun, if not for the circumstances. The last thing he wanted was for Tony to call for S.H.I.E.L.D. thinking he was dangerous, when he wasn't. He had no choice but to tell the truth.

"I visited Natasha late at night," Loki admitted. "By teleportation."

Tony shot him a sarcastic congratulatory grin. "Oh, so you teleport now?" Then he reverted back to panic mode. "You can use magic again? I don't get it! You said you couldn't! Wait, why would I believe you? Thor said so too! Did you use some kind of spell to mess up the tracker?"

Loki raised his hands to calm down the flustered man. "Did Thor not tell you about my current situation regarding magic?"

Tony threw up his hands in exasperation. "What current situation? Thor was supposed to tell me something? Thor hasn't given me _shit_!"

The God of Mischief rolled his eyes and sighed. "Very well. I will explain. What my brother has failed to tell you is that my-his father, Odin, can grant me access to certain reserves of magic. So far he has only given back my ability to teleport."

"And how exactly did you get your poofing power back? Did Odin show up himself?"

"No. Huginn and Muginn did."

"Who are they? His magical messengers with winged shoes?"

"Close enough. That would be Hermes from the Greek stories." Loki replied wryly. "Huginn and Muginn are talking ravens that serve as the eyes and ears of Odin."

Tony's amused grin faltered and he blinked. "Talking ravens. For real?"

He seemed even more incredulous at Loki's serious face. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, as if he couldn't take any more of these Asgardian shenanigans.

"You would be happy to know that I still cannot harm you with magic." Loki added.

Tony seemed to calm down a bit. He paused to absorb this new information. "Yeah, I guess I'm relieved by that." He eyed Loki curiously. "Did you really go see Natasha?"

Loki tried to sound sincere. "Yes, I swear. I only teleported to her hospital room and back. That is all."

Tony scrutinized him for a few quiet seconds. Then he finally sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Look, if that was all there was to it, you could've just...let me know. You whisked away without me knowing where you went. Now you bust up my tracker and get me in trouble with Fury. He thinks you've gone AWOL and was considering sending military personnel after you."

Normally, Loki would smile with glee at the mayhem he caused. Instead, he made an awkward sheepish smirk as he attempted to apologize. "I'm sorry, Stark."

"It's cool, I guess. Don't worry about it. I just gotta get a replacement for you, and report to Fury about the false alarm." Tony made for the door. "Oh, and try not to teleport too much. I'm afraid that every time you do it, you'll mess up the tracker. That thing ain't cheap, you know."

"No promises."

Tony made a face before shutting the door. Loki let out a laugh. He couldn't help but slip in that cheeky remark.

Loki was beginning to feel sleepy himself. He slipped under the covers and stretched out on the bed. Sleep came to him quickly and gently. He dreamed of a constant warmth, not too hot nor too cold. He couldn't see it...but gods, he could _feel_ it. It felt just right, as if he died and spirited away to Valhalla. It was as if he had never left the hospital room and was still embracing Natasha. What was it about that woman that felt so...good? Loki didn't question the matter for long. He would take her over the steel-cold nightmares in a heartbeat.

Eventually, Loki woke up feeling much better. A pleasant, groggy ache enveloped his body as he groaned and stretched. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

'Dwarves' beards. I've been sleeping for half a day.'

He had certainly made up for lost sleeping time. Unsure of what to do next, Loki decided to watch some TV. He occupied himself with the music video channel, observing the kind of music Midgardians listen to. He had Nicki Minaj's song "Beez In the Trap" stuck in his head like mud under a boot.

He got so bored to the point he muttered the lyrics to himself as he laid back in bed and stared at the ceiling.

"_Bitches ain't shit and they ain't say nothin'. A hundred motherfuckers can't tell me nothin'. I beez in the trap, bee beez in the trap. I beez in the trap, bee beez in the trap..._"

The song made absolutely no sense to him. Nothing but vulgar words thrown around and "beez in a trap," which he assumed must be some Midgardian slang for who knows what.

In the evening, Loki got a surprise visit from Thor. The God of Thunder made no secret of his entrance. His booming voice almost made Loki jolt and drop the remote in his hand.

"Brother! We meet again!"

Loki cringed. "So we have. What brings you here now, Thor?" He noticed that Thor was in a nice, clean suit, as opposed to the usual Midgardian clothes he so liked...Loki, however, would never wear plaid and jeans.

"I'm going out with Jane to dinner." Thor declared.

"Again?"

Thor pulled a frown. "Jane had cancelled last night. She had some work to do with Dr. Selvig. But all for the better, brother. Because you are invited."

Loki blinked. "I am...? Does Stark even approve?"

"He did, as a matter of fact. He said-"

Loki cut him off. "I probably know why. There will be the tracker to locate me, and you to restrain me in case I stir up trouble."

"Come along, brother...it will be fun. There would be me and Jane, you and Darcy-"

"Who is Darcy?"

"Oh, I had forgotten. You haven't been introduced to her yet. But you will meet her soon enough, if you agree to join me. She is quite an amusing woman, with a sort of peculiar charm to her."

Loki frowned in distaste. "Join you in courting women? Sorry, I'll pass."

Thor shook his head. "No, not courting. The Midgardians call it dating, and what we'll be doing tonight is, as Jane told me, double dating."

Loki wasn't thrilled. "A double date. Splendid."

"It's only a casual affair, a get-together with good friends. Well...if you insist on staying locked up in your room alone, I will respect your wishes."

Thor was not one to bribe and coax; that was Loki's specialty. But the God of Mischief could hear the faintest slyness in Thor's voice. The God of Thunder implore him with wide blue eyes. Loki sighed in resignation.

"Allow me a few minutes to get dressed."

Thor's eyes lit up. "I knew you would come along, brother."

He waited patiently as Loki spent time in the closet suiting up. He sized himself up in the mirror with a calculating sweep of his eyes. His dark hair was slicked back to end in a neat ponytail. He made a mental note to get it cut soon, when he had the chance. He chose a tuxedo accompanied by a gold and green scarf. He found a bottle of cologne he didn't find nauseating, and sprayed a little bit over himself. Soon he was clad in the same formal manner as Thor.

Loki followed Thor to the garage, where an ordinary car was clumsily parked.

Nevertheless, he looked surprised as his gaze shifted from the car to Thor. "Oh, you can steer this?"

Thor nodded proudly. "It's more or less like guiding a horse pulling the carriage...without the mess, of course."

"Is this vehicle yours?"

"No, it belongs to Jane. She let me borrow it so I can come over here in typical Midgardian fashion to pick you up."

Thor made for a surprisingly careful and steady driver. Nevertheless, Loki felt nervous every time he glanced over to see Thor's large hands over the wheel.

They pulled over to the hotel where Jane and Darcy had been staying during their visit to New York. Loki spotted the two young women waving them over. He recognized Jane when he had sent the Destroyer to decimate that small, dry wisp of a Midgardian town.

As soon as Thor brought the car to a stop, Loki hastily climbed out and moved to the back. That allowed Jane the front seat next to Thor. She greeted him with an affectionate kiss.

Thor began formal introductions as soon as everyone was in the car. "Loki, this is Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis, hailing from the land of New Mexico."

Next he gestured to Loki. "I'd like you to meet Loki Odinson of Asgard, my brother."

Darcy eagerly shook Loki's hand. "Hi there, nice to meet you!"

He was taken aback by her cheerful and friendly attitude. He managed a forced, polite smile. "Same to you, Miss Lewis."

"Aww, he's so cute!" she gushed. "Is this really the same guy who tried to destroy the world?"

Jane turned her head back with a warning sidelong glance. Darcy caught on and quickly tried to cover her awkward mistake. "Er...I hope you'll like the place we're eating at tonight. It's called Smorgas Chef. They serve authentic Swedish cuisine. Dr. Selvig loves the place."

Mention of the physicist made Loki uncomfortable. He wasn't sure whether Jane or Darcy were aware of his previous tampers with their friend. He thought it best not to bring it up at all.

By the time it came for Thor to park the car, he was sweating bullets. He pulled at his tie and fidgeted in his seat as he manuevered around the busy parking lot. Luckily Jane was there to help.

"That's it, back in just a little more. Don't forget to look both ways...watch for other cars...there you go, you're doing great. A little more...a little more..."

After the umpteenth tentative lurch, Thor finally had the car neatly parked between a truck and an SUV. He beamed at his success.

"I have done it, my friends!"

Darcy burst into enthusiastic, relieved applause. "Yay for Thor!"

Loki exhaled a gusty sigh and climbed out of the car. Thor and Jane walked ahead together while Loki fell in step next to Darcy. They entered Smorgas Chef and were shortly greeted by a waitress. As she showed them to an available table, she kept glancing back towards Thor and occasionally Loki. She looked as if she were escorting a royal host. No doubt she considered the men attractive, and it annoyed Loki. The God of Mischief avoided meeting eye contact with anyone. He didn't want to risk being recognized by the crowd. A quiet sigh of relief escaped him as they approached an empty table and were relieved of the waitress. Other than asking for their orders, she scraped all attempts to talk to Thor when Jane made a subtle move to wrap her arm around his. When the waitress looked to Loki instead, he fixed her with such an intense, hard stare that he almost chortled when she promptly left.

Thor occupied himself by making small talk with Jane. He asked how she was doing in New York, while her replies consisted of comparing the city and the small New Mexico town she grew up in. Darcy tried to start a conversation with Loki, but each time the attempt fell short when Loki would barely respond. She chatted endlessly and asked a lot of questions. He found it annoying and awkward. Finally Darcy relented. She let him keep to himself as she pulled out her phone and browsed on Tumblr and Facebook.

Jane frowned. "Darcy, we're having dinner with guests. You shouldn't be on the phone."

"You're not my mom, Jane. Besides, Loki won't talk to me. And you're busy chatting with your lover boy over there."

Jane blushed. "He's not my 'lover boy.'"

Darcy made a cheeky grin at her. "If he isn't, I don't know what else he is to you."

She returned to browsing on her phone and suddenly she exclaimed, "Whoa, this is really cool!"

She turned her phone around for everyone to see. "It's a GIF of some martial art thingy. Doesn't that look like the Black Widow kicking ass?"

Loki saw a picture moving in an endless loop (powered by some queer form of magic from her device, he assumed), featuring a girl in a blue uniform and using her legs to bring down an opponent.

"Indeed it does," Thor replied. "That's very impressive."

"How do you know about the Black Widow?" Loki asked. "The likes of you aren't supposed to know she even exists."

During his days of S.H.I.E.L.D. infiltration, he had seen enough of Agent Barton and Romanoff's files to know that their identities and operations were maintained and covered with the utmost caution.

Darcy studied him with slight confusion. "Thor told me about her, of course. No need to make a fuss...her secret's safe with me."

"I was not making a fuss..." he muttered in protest.

Did it seem to them that he was trying to...protect Natasha? He pushed away the thought when he saw that the food arrived.

It turned out to be quite delicious and exquisite. Thor wolfed down the smorgasbord like a bilgesnipe in a famine. Loki ate his dish, Swedish meatballs and lingonberries, with more caution and diligence. He liked to eat slow and steady, as he found the taste much more fulfilling than the untasted mush stuffed into his gut. He saw little reason to gobble down food on haste, other than for pride. Even then, it all came down to bragging about the biggest belly...or the worst stomachache. It was known among the Asgardian royal court to never sit between Thor and Volstagg. Just looking at them in the midst of their drinking games or eating contests would make him queasy.

But Loki noticed that Thor displayed unusually polite and well-mannered behavior at the table tonight, not counting his inability to suppress his hunger for the first few bites. He shared broad smiles and hearty laughs with Jane. Loki didn't expect a sense of content to override his jealousy. But it did, when he observed Thor and Jane together. True love, not lust, emanated from Thor's eyes. Loki wondered if he would ever feel the same towards a woman.

Darcy interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, can I call you Lokster? Or Loki-Doki? Or Loco Loki?"

Then she said to herself, "Actually, Lokster sounds good."

He scowled at her. "No, you may not."

"Why?"

"Because it's not my name," he snapped.

"That's why it's called a nickname, silly. Lighten up! I'm trying to get along with you and you're acting like such a shy guy."

"I am not being shy. I'm simply not used to being addressed so informally and-"

"Oh right, I forgot you're a prince of Asgard." Darcy gestured with a flourishing hand. "Forgive me, Your Grace."

He said nothing to correct her. It bothered him, nonetheless. Being reminded of his status as a fallen prince only reminded him too of being a failed king. He sighed and returned to finishing his dinner.

"Since you're a prince and all...you must own a horse, right?" Darcy asked.

"Indeed I do." Loki replied. "His name is Draugur."

Her eyes lit from behind her red-rimmed glasses. "Ooh, I love horses. Tell me more."

Soon Loki occupied himself with his own conversation with her. He talked about his royal horse, and ended on an implied note that Draugur was better than Thor's steed Styrkur. He went on to talk about the various sights and wonders of Asgard. Darcy hung on to his words with rapt attention and enthusiasm.

"I'd love to see Asgard! You and Thor should take me and Jane for dinner up there next time."

'If I'll ever have the chance to see my home again.' Loki thought glumly.

"It would be really cool," she went on. "Then after all the sightseeing on Asgard, you could show us that bigass tree that's so important in the Norse myths we have. It had some weird name, like Iggdrazie or something."

Loki didn't make any reply to deter her excitement. Contrary to popular opinion, Yggdrasil was not a tree in the strict literal sense. It was more of a vast, interconnected network of crossroads that spanned the cosmos and linked the Nine Realms together. The Bifrost covered many branches, though Loki knew his share of secret detours and shortcuts. He needed magic for it, which was something he severely lacked at the moment. He felt grounded and trapped.

'I guess this is how mortals feel. They always look to the sky and try to reach for the highest point...reaching for the stars, as they call it. Though they cannot possibly fathom what lies ahead of them...worlds more than the mere layer of blue air over their heads.'

What frustrated him was that he _knew _what existed beyond. He just didn't have the means to go anywhere.

'Get your head out of the clouds. Enjoy the night while you can.'

Loki swallowed down his moodiness a sip of champagne. He let a light, easy smile grace his lips as he entered the conversation of comparing the stars of Earth and Asgard. Jane even seemed to let her wariness slip away as she and Loki exchanged meticulously deep and detailed knowledge of the stars. He liked the food, and most of all, he liked the company. It was actually turning out to be quite a pleasant evening.

* * *

Natasha had dinner with no other than her fellow agent and best friend Clint. When the door opened, she had expected the nurse. Clint came in instead carrying two trays of food.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I've been getting lonely. Have you?"

He shut the door with his foot and helped set the tray above Natasha's lap. She was still on a predominantly liquid diet. Her dinner consisted of thin mushroom soup, mashed potatoes and a cup of water.

"I had already put ice cubes in your soup beforehand. So you won't burn your tongue." Clint said.

She took in slow, deliberate mouthfuls and didn't need to chew. The food tasted good and refreshing in her mouth.

Whenever he made eye contact with her, he would turn away and swallow more than just food. He was still trying to swallow down his guilt.

Clint had a bottle of beer for himself; Natasha was still prohibited from consuming alcohol.

"Director Fury is hoping that you recover soon." he said. "Not to put you back on the field as soon as possible, of course. He's genuinely worried about your health. He told me himself that he feels somewhat like a father towards you."

Fury paid her an occasional visit whenever he wasn't busy running S.H.I.E.L.D. and keeping it together. He never asked about her mental health, but she knew that was what he was most concerned about.

Clint looked up from the floor to meet her eyes. "Are you getting any better from the fevers?"

Natasha nodded. He probably wouldn't believe her if she could tell him how it was possible.

"How are your ankles? Can you walk yet?"

She had to shake her head at that.

"I know you've been bed-ridden for a while. If you want, I can bring in a wheelchair and take you to the gym."

'Yes, I would like that very much.' Natasha tried to give him a smile, but the following pain made her wince.

Clint noticed, and his brow furrowed with worry. He set aside his finished tray and edged closer to Natasha.

Hesitation was thick in his voice. "I...I know I'm being awkward, and I don't know how to tell you just how much I'm truly sorry about what has happened to you. Fury's been sending me off on a lot of solo missions lately. I know his intention...and he means well...but I'm fortunate enough that I've got a quick break so I could see you before I might never..."

Natasha knew what he was going to say. From day one as a team, she and Clint were well aware that each day could be their last. They never spoke of it, never discussed the possibilities and what ifs. But they knew.

A lengthy silence stretched on until Clint mustered the words to break it. "So...he's been visiting you lately?"

Natasha didn't need to wonder who Clint was referring to. She could tell he didn't like asking the question. He took a sip of beer, though it didn't take away the look of distaste on his face.

"I don't know, Nat...Why Thor decided to bring Loki back here is beyond me. What has he done to help you? He's up to no good, I'm sure of it. I've seen him kill so many people...I've _helped_ him do it. I know that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Tony have him closely watched. But how long would that last?"

Clint reached out to hold her hand. His grip was warm, gentle yet firm and unflinching. "Whatever happens, Natasha...I won't let him hurt you again. I swear it."

'He sounds as if Loki did this to me, not Joffrey.'

"Not a second, minute, hour or day goes by without me thinking of you." he went on. "I hate it every time I think of you being alone with _him_. Like you're trapped along with the beast inside a cage..."

'You're wrong, Clint.' Loki was no beast. She had seen it for herself. It had taken a great deal of pride, or what was left of it, to open up to her about his past and present pain. He had his mouth sewn shut, she had hers cut open. Different wounds bore the same sting, bled the same blood.

Clint turned his head to the window and saw the setting sun. He sighed and reluctantly pulled his hand away.

"Guess I better get going and leave you in peace. I have to get ready for a flight to Vietnam tomorrow. One long hell of a ride, I heard...crazy communists running around, too. They're letting China come in and snatch away more of the land, so I'm part of the U.S. effort to defend that long strip of jungle. Wish me luck. Good night, Tasha."

Clint took up their trays and half-empty bottle and managed a smile. She returned it with a small wave of her pale hand. He left, leaving her alone again.

With the sun that didn't scorch her bedsheet as it seemed to do, Natasha was content with relaxing in bed. She had nothing else to do but finally read Steve's get-well cards. Her heart lifted, and she almost smiled, when she read his valiant attempt at writing in Russian, and his impressive rendering of St. Basil's church in Moscow. She wondered if he had been there before, during his many adventures as Captain America of the 40's.

She was learning, the hard way, the value and power of friendship. She had been raised to believe she didn't need any of it. Now she couldn't imagine what she would do without her friends. What struck her was when she thought of the Avengers, Loki was part of the picture as well.

* * *

After finishing dinner, Thor generously offered to pay the bill. S.H.I.E.L.D. had supplied him with cash and a bank account enough to make Tony mildly jealous. Thor was never overly concerned with materialistic needs. Instead, he spent his money mostly on charity and hippie rallies. The God of Thunder took the wheel again to drop off Jane and Darcy at the hotel. They continued their talk on the road. Jane too expressed a wish to go to Asgard.

"Until now, I've never left my hometown in New Mexico, let alone travel out of the planet. I think of all the scientific discoveries to be made...and I get so excited!"

"I would love to take you there," Thor replied with earnest. He took one hand off the wheel to hold Jane's.

The car finally stopped at the hotel's front. Jane gave Thor a kiss before leaving the car. And Darcy surprised Loki with a quick hug.

"Bye, Loki! It was nice to meet you!"

She hopped out before he could muster a reply. The car was starting to drive away when Jane gave Loki a tentative wave. He lifted his hand in acknowledgement. It took a few minutes to arrive at the Stark tower.

Tony was waiting outside his expansive parking lot. He backed up a little when Thor drove up a bit too fast. Loki exited the car. After getting out, he leaned close to the rolled-down window.

"Thank you, Thor. I...enjoyed tonight."

Thor gave him a wide grin. "I'm glad you did. I wish you a good night, brother."

"Same to you." he backed up a good distance, close to Tony, so he wouldn't risk getting run over by Thor. He drove off without any incident, much to their relief.

"Have you been expecting us?" Loki asked.

"Well, not really," Tony admitted with a shrug. "I came out to give you this."

He held out a small latch-on device and installed it into Loki's tracker.

"I'm done with the neat little upgrade that'll go into the tracker. If my theories on astrophysics and time-space relativity are correct, the tracker should continue functioning wherever you go poofing away somewhere. Oh, and guess what? Your tracker's now a taser too!"

"Wonderful. I'll keep that in mind."

Tony grinned gleefully at Loki's sarcasm. "I'm sure you will. If you decide to do anything fishy and cook up some trouble, S.H.I.E.L.D. and I will know."

"I'll continue to do no such thing, Stark."

"Not sure if I can finally take your word for it, but okay."

Loki took the usual way up to his room. His thoughts were filled with memories of the evening. He actually took a sort of...peculiar liking to Darcy Lewis. While she was very warm and sociable, he also found her too bright, chatty and a bit childish for his taste. She was-he tried to think of the word-cute, but not beautiful. He liked women who were mature beyond their years, possessing sharp intelligence coupled with natural beauty. Like Natasha Romanoff...

'Romanoff? Again with her?'

He might as well slap himself. Who was he to be picky over his preferences of the ideal woman? He wasn't in any position to choose, let alone earn one.

Loki entered his room, and the first thing he did was click on the remote. He tried to distract himself with a movie so ridiculous and violent he was sure would remove the rosy daydreams of women. Hostel was about three young men who get into a torture ring involving sadistically bored rich people who pay to mutilate live humans. He thought it would do the job, until the Russian woman who seduces the main characters reminded him of Natasha. He had to turn off the TV. He even tried to sing those horrid lyrics again.

"_Bitches ain't shit, and they ain't say nothin'. A hundred motherfuckers can't tell me nothin'..._"

He wished Huginn and Muninn were back again, to open more of his gateways and broaden his scope of magical abilities. His core felt restricted, just as his body felt stuck in the room. He kept glancing at the glass window. But the pair of talking ravens never showed up.

No matter...With his newfound freedom to teleport, Loki could go just around anywhere.

He didn't feel like doing it, though. He almost considered visiting Natasha again, but he thought it best not to bother her. He felt like he had done enough for one night. Only time would tell what would happen the next day. Loki never had the serious interest to dabble in divination. Most who practiced the art were inexperienced frauds. But the few who proved truthful were often the most dangerous ones.

He tried not to think about it anymore. Though he couldn't help whether he was destined for something else. If not to take over Asgard or Midgard as king...then what? Asgardians often strive to make names for themselves, from the brightest scholar to the strongest warrior. To be remembered for generations...It was the highest honor. Songs were sung, prophecies were told. Thor fulfilled his destiny as a hero, it seemed.

But what was _Loki's_ story?

* * *

_I planned for this story to span 15 chapters, and I'm roughly halfway through! Yay!_

_Not only do I ship LokixNatasha, I also like LokixDarcy and ClintxNatasha. I try to explore the potential chemistry of those ships, but this is, in the end, still a LokixNatasha story. :) _

_And Loki singing Nicki Minaj's "Beez In the Trap"...it just had to be done. I regret NOTHING! [Gum]_


	9. Something Stirring

_Over 100 reviews, and almost 200 followers! That's amazing...Thanks everybody! Your feedback is encouraging and motivates me to keep writing._

_I'm sorry about the recent updating delays (and apologize in advance for future ones)...I've been shadowing a surgeon and volunteering at a clinic, so that puts a strain on college classes and free time to write. But that's okay! I enjoy doing all of it. :) [Gum]_

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (9)**  
**Something Stirring  
**

**"There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met."**  
**~William Butler Yeats**

When Loki finally figured out how to interact with JARVIS, staying in his room became infinitely less boring. He got to finish Beowulf-for the fourth time.

And when Loki was done, JARVIS had asked, "May I interest you in reading Tolkien's _Lord of the Rings_, sir?"

Within the span of three days, Loki devoured the entire trilogy. One night he skipped dinner to blaze through the ending of _The Return of the King_. Perhaps there was hope for Midgard's modern literature after all, he thought. Previously he had inquired JARVIS about the bestseller selections. Even the computerized butler recognized the lack of true value behind book series called _Twilight_ and _Fifty Shades of Grey_.

"Sir, to put it this way...popularity does not always amount to substance. Sadly, more often than not, that is the case with so-called bestsellers."

Pepper was the first to discover Loki's newfound obsession, and she offered to watch a movie trilogy marathon with him. With Tony not around and busy at his lab for some reason, Pepper and Loki saw nothing wrong with the arrangement. They set aside an entire day to watch the movies. Pepper had seen them countless times with Tony, and Loki had read the books, so they started conversations during the movies' lulling moments.

"What is Agent Romanoff to you?" Loki inquired. "If you don't mind me asking..."

"I can't tell you much, for her sake. But to me, she's a good friend. She comes to me so she can take a break from being with the boys all the time. And it's rare to find a woman who is beautiful and mature like her. Don't you think?"

He hesitated. "I suppose..."

"Oh, come on. A guy would be crazy to think Natasha Romanoff isn't beautiful."

Loki felt suspicious of being led into some kind of trap. "It was not my choice to come here. I have absolutely no interest in her."

The reply came out colder and callous than he had intended. Pepper said no more of the subject. They quietly returned to watching the movie as the battle of Helm's Deep began. The Two Towers eventually ended, Pepper was switching it out for Return of the King when Loki spoke up again.

"I'm sorry about what I had said. She is...a pleasant sight to look upon. I will not deny that, nor her admirable character."

She gave him a secret smile. "Interesting...how you put it that way."

They said nothing more of Natasha that night. After the movies Loki went to sleep, thinking he could stay in Midgard just a little longer to see The Hobbit released in theaters. He was relieved not to relive any nightmares. For now, anyway.

Loki spent most of the next day studying New York City, via a holographic map by JARVIS. If he wanted to go anywhere, he had to have a good image in his mind if he was to end up there. But New York looked like a sprawling urban mess, crowded with tall towers because there was nowhere else for room but upwards. Most of the buildings looked the same to him. All gray, tall and ugly. Not to mention boringly bland by day and annoyingly bright at night. Since his stay on Midgard, Loki had yet to look upon a decent view of the stars.

No offense to JARVIS, but Loki still preferred having a real book in his hands, and relish the feeling of turning a page. He came to the conclusion that while technology was convenient, it also felt distant. He was happy to find out that New York City was graced with a huge library on Fifth Avenue.

Suddenly, when he finished scanning the maps, he felt the need to exercise. With the little magic he had right now, he might as well sharpen what he had left. He had observed how mortals dressed when they went to "work out," and he thought it looked ridiculous. He donned on the Adidas sports gear anyway; blending in called for desperate measures. He made a call to Tony through JARVIS.

"Just so you know, I'll be at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s training facility."

"Say hi to Cap for me, then."

Loki took it as permission granted to go. From the sound of it, Tony appeared to be very busy with work. He wasn't sure if the billionaire was paying attention. What Loki knew was that S.H.I.E.L.D. supplied its agents and operatives with a state-of-the-art gym, so they could keep in shape for their demanding jobs. He teleported to the site of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters. He knew the general image of the place. It was now a matter of going in and finding the gym for himself.

He passed by the hospital rooms, and he happened to pass by Natasha's. Bruce was in there, talking quietly to her. She noticed Loki out of the corner of her eye and met his gaze. He returned it with a small wave before moving on. As the hallways converged, Loki almost bumped into Steve. The Captain was out of uniform today. He wore simple brown pants and a plain white shirt that read Brooklyn on the front. He looked startled and wary when he met Loki's eyes.

"Do not be alarmed, Captain. I'm just here to spend time in the training facility."

Steve relaxed slightly. "You mean the gym...? Uh, sure. I'm heading up there myself. You can follow me if you want."

Loki gestured for the Captain to lead the way. Steve led him into an elevator that took them up a few floors.

The Captain looked down at Loki's tracker. "What's that?"

"One of Stark's toys. To keep me collared."

"Oh."

They arrived at the helicarrier's gymnasium in a matter of minutes. It was wide, spacious and empty. Steve occupied himself with the punching bag, as usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Loki look around, trying to find something to do. Loki seemed to only take interest in the weights. He settled himself and reclined against the seat. His fingers curled around the steel above him. Steve stopped in surprise when Loki selected the 500-pound weight...and lifted it effortlessly.

"No, this won't do..." he heard Loki mutter.

The God of Mischief adjusted the weights and grunted in satisfaction as he lifted the half-ton. He began bench pressing roughly 1000 pounds, keeping a steady pace. He was nowhere near Thor's strength. But he could play the superhuman when he put his mind to it. Soon he grew tired of the monotonous routine. He noticed the lap pool on the other side, barred by a glass door. Going for a swim sounded nice, if only he had the appropriate attire for it.

Loki moved to the punching bag and tried to remember his sparring techniques. He bobbed lightly on the balls of his feet, making feints and hooks at the bag before him. His fists flew at incredible speed, and he lashed out with the occasional kick. Loki could feel the Captain staring, and he stopped to face him. Steve looked like he wanted to say something, but was keeping it back. Loki continued to stare, as if imploring him to spill it out.

"Do you want to spar with me?" Steve finally asked. "I know that you're a good fighter."

'Of course he knows...that little skirmish in Germany isn't something neither of us would forget.' Loki replied with a shrug. "Why not?"

They moved to a little arena with space just for fighting. The two men faced each other from opposite sides. Loki gave an Asgardian salute, by tucking a right fist to his chest and dipping his head. Steve nodded in return.

They lunged and struck simultaneously. Steve was a hard-hitting fighter, but Loki was pretty solid himself. He had taken harder hits from Thor many times before. Steve was frank and straightforward when it came to taking the offensive. Loki leaned toward evasive manuevering, constantly shifting to the left or right. He veered Steve's fists off course with open palms hitting the Captain's wrists.

Loki wished he had his ability to manipulate energy. He could knock Steve flat with jets of water, or stream of rocks, in seconds. He even wished for throwing knives nestled between his fingers, ready to strike like venom from a snake. Fighting from a distance was his forte, as well as his preference. But he had to make do with his fists and feet.

Venom from a snake...suddenly Loki had an idea. His palms met with Steve's fists. They engaged in a wrestling deadlock. Loki bared his teeth and feigned a bite at Steve's neck. The Captain instantly backed away and recoiled. Loki slipped a leg out and promptly tripkicked Steve to the floor. The Captain fell with a glorious solid _whump! _Loki almost burst into laughter.

Steve sat up and glared. "Hey, that's playing dirty."

Loki felt a flash of cheeky arrogance. "Could you have expected less from the one and only God of Mischief?"

He continued to gloat in silence. But he didn't attempt any more slippery tricks as Steve rose to dust himself and recollect his dignity. Then they continued sparring. After a few minutes, Loki and Steve stopped to take a break.

Steve glanced at the clock overhead. "It's almost time...I got a meeting with Director Fury."

He wouldn't tell Loki anything more than that, of course. Loki didn't ask, but merely nodded as Steve rose with his towel wrapped around his sweaty neck. He was ever the gentleman; he turned to Loki before leaving.

"Thanks for sparring with me."

Loki was surprised before he said, "You're welcome."

He was left alone in the gym. After an intense workout, he decided it would be a good idea to wind down and relax at New York City's public library. Before he had left his room, Loki took note of a few areas where he could teleport safely and unseen. Reaching into his bag, he changed into more presentable clothes. He closed his eyes, and ended up at an inconspicuous junction of the library in a matter of seconds. He made his way to the front so he could walk into the library like any unsuspecting human being.

He was taken aback at the sheer size and length of the place. It reminded him of the great halls of the Asgardian palace. But for all its hugeness, it was relatively pleasant and quiet. There were lots of people, but they milled around or sat reading without making much noise. That was how he liked it. He was browsing through the Classics section when a few books caught his eye. He picked them out and sat down to read. Loki was so engrossed in a book that he didn't notice someone trying to catch his attention until she waved a hand in his face.

"Hey Lokster! Long time no see!"

Loki's head snapped up to glare at whoever disturbed his reading. Then he quickly composed himself when he recognized her. He nodded in greeting. "Hello, Darcy Lewis."

Darcy peeked over his shoulder. He instinctively ducked the book away from her sight. "Whatcha reading?"

It was hard to hide a big book. She caught a glimpse of the spine. "_War and Peace_? I didn't know you read Russian literature."

"I've recently stumbled upon it. I must admit they're very compelling."

Darcy took a seat across from him. "I thought you would be reading ancient stuff like Beowulf."

"I already have. Four times."

She stared wide-eyed through her red-rimmed glasses. "Damn, Loki. You're one hardcore bookworm."

"A bookworm? You Midgardians have the strangest idioms." He said it in jest, as opposed to his previous attitude of scorn towards the peculiar mortals and their peculiar ways.

Darcy caught on. "You think we're weird? You guys talk like living Shakespeares."

"Yes, I get that quite often." Loki peered at the stack of books in Darcy's hands. "And what are you reading?"

"Oh, mostly study aids. It's all Jane's fault. She made me go here to get me away from Facebook and Tumblr. I'm a political science major, so I gotta read a lot on law, government, all that jazz."

Loki raised an eyebrow at her. "You are still in school?"

"Ooooh yeah. Buddy, let me tell you about college."

Darcy spent about 15 minutes explaining the ways and importance of the Midgardian education system. Loki was very intrigued. He liked the idea of Midgardians stressing the importance of a long and thorough education that didn't involve brawn, valor and battle glory.

"Here's how I would sum it up: no college, no money, no house, no happiness, no life." Darcy said. "Unfortunately, some people don't get that and just drop out of high school anyway."

"I see. Can one practice magic at these so called colleges?"

To his surprise, Darcy burst out laughing. She quickly stopped so she wouldn't disturb the peace in the library. She still had a wide grin on her face when she collected herself.

"Sorry, Loki...you can't major in magic. That would be pretty cool, though. If only Hogwarts was real..."

Loki checked the tracker on his wrist. He had been in the library for most of the afternoon. Staying with Darcy wasn't something he looked forward to, since he would rather spend his reading time alone. He rose with the books in his hands. "I think I've stayed here long enough. I must head back to Stark's tower."

Darcy looked up in alarm. "Not so fast, Lokster. Where are you going with those?"

"Stop calling me that. I'm taking these books along, of course."

"Uh, that would be stealing."

Loki scowled. "But the librarian said they were free."

"Yeah, free to _rent_." Darcy sighed and got up as well. "Come on. I'll get you a library card and show you how to check out your books."

After making his own library card, Loki could pick books to take home. 8 was the limit, though he didn't intend to carry that many. He chose 3: _Crime and Punishment_, _War and Peace_, and a collection of C.S. Lewis works. Having to return them was not a problem. He was a fast reader and always did as he was told promptly.

Darcy and Loki left the library together, then they went their separate ways. She waved cheerfully at him.

"See you, Loki! Until next time."

Without turning back, he lifted a hand in acknowledgement. Loki returned to the tower with his books. As soon as he arrived, Tony went up to him and jumped a question. "Hey Loki. Can you do me a favor?"

"I don't know. Can I?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. Look, it's plain and simple." Tony held out a wrapped box. "Take this to Natasha while you visit. I didn't spend all my time in the lab for nothing. Hopefully she'll like it."

Loki sighed. "Very well. I will do what you ask."

Tony beamed back at him. "Good boy. Now run along. Don't do anything funny and get yourself into trouble. I've got a date with Pepper, and I don't want you getting in the way."

Loki thought it best not to retort by mentioning the Lord of the Rings marathon with Pepper. He had been looking forward to retreating to his room and reading. But he didn't really mind visiting Natasha either. Curiosity replaced his irritation, since he wanted to know how she had been doing since he last saw her. He went from the Stark tower to Natasha's room in an instant. Dr. Banner was no longer in the room.

'Perhaps he left when I was in the library,' he thought.

Loki took a few seconds to observe her. Natasha appeared to look better; the bruises under her eyes were beginning to fade away. Otherwise, there was no drastic change to her. The scars were still there, perpetually grinning. He remembered how much he had frightened his Asgardian peers when he came back from Nidavellir, the realm of the Dwarves, with bleeding lips sewn shut.

"Good evening, Natasha." he said. "Tony Stark asked me to give you this."

He pulled out the box and handed it to her. She opened it to reveal some sort of small laptop. There was a sticky note attached to the box:

"Hey Natasha,

Thought you might like this double-screen digital notebook. It's a quick and easy substitute for talking. When you type, you don't have to turn it around all the time. Text is adjustable too, so you can make it however big or colorful you want. My gift to you. Pepper and I send you our best wishes and hopes that you get better soon.

Lots and lots of love, Tony"

Loki had no idea what it was. He found out soon enough when she switched it on. He saw the typed message on the screen before him in large, black letters.

**"Hello Loki."**

"Hello, Natasha. How are you?"

**"Okay. Could be worse. And you?"**

"I've had quite an interesting day. Want to hear about it?"

She nodded. He told her about his time in the library and running into Darcy. Or Darcy running into him. Then he gestured to the books he had in hand.

"I was reading some Russian literature in the library. Darcy showed me how to rent them. Have you read these before?"

Loki showed her _Crime and Punishment_ and _War and Peace_. Her eyes lit with recognition and she nodded.

She typed, **"Good books. Haven't read them in a long time."**

Loki rubbed the back of his head, then he tugged at his scarf. "Would you...like me to read one to you?"

**"Yes. I would like that."**

Loki took a seat next to her, closing the distance between the two. He flipped to the first page, cleared his throat and began reading _Crime and Punishment_. It reminded him of the days when he and Thor were children, and Loki would read stories to his brother late at night. He looked up from time to time as he read. Natasha sat still, looking relaxed with her head against the pillow and hands folded at her lap. Her eyes were closed, but he had no doubt she was hanging on to every word he said. He figured that unlike Thor, who would sit cross-legged and wide-eyed, this was Natasha's way of fully enjoying the experience of listening to a story. He read aloud for a while, and he still didn't feel tired. Then he glanced at the tracker.

"I'm afraid it's about that time the hospital is closed to visitors. I must take my leave."

He almost regretted leaving her. She opened her eyes to watch him go. Loki closed the book, rose to his feet and looked back to her as he approached the door.

"Have a good evening. I hope you get some rest tonight."

**"You too. Thanks for reading to me."**

He gave her a rare small smile. "You're welcome."

* * *

Natasha shut down the digital notebook when Loki shut the door. It couldn't be denied. Natasha actually enjoyed having him talk to her. He turned out to be an excellent reader, and when it was time for him to leave she almost protested.

Though she had been sleeping better, Natasha still couldn't get her legs to move without the risk of pain. Healing was taking longer than she had expected, and it irritated her. She liked to be active and on the move. Being bound to her bed made her feel helpless. Next time the nurse visited her, Natasha would put her laptop to use by asking for a wheelchair. She wished Clint would be here to do it, but he was miles away fighting in a foreign country.

A week passed, and Natasha was able to get her casts removed. Her ankles and feet were stiff and numb when she tried to move them around. They felt distant and detached to her, almost as if they weren't part of her body until now. The first few flexes were painful and awkward. But as she continued her exercises, the pain died away. She assumed she must look strange from afar, laying calm and expressionless in bed with nothing moving but the occasional wiggle of her toes. As for her mouth, the cuts still felt swollen. Thankfully, the painkillers stifled the worst of the feeling.

To keep herself occupied during the times of lonely silence, Natasha would hum tunes of Russian folk songs...the hymns of her youth and former homeland. Her favorite was "Katyusha," a song about a girl longing for her war-bound husband. Her own former spouse, Alexei, used to call her his little katyusha. They had been young and naive, and their marriage was brief. But it made Natasha feel good about remembering what could be called real love...before her charm and body were exploited as weapons. Her feet unconsciously bobbed to the rhythm as she hummed. Even at night, she sang herself to sleep.

Little did she know that Loki came into her room one night, and caught her humming a beautiful lullaby. She laid motionless and relaxed with her eyes closed. The notes drew out and softened as she slipped into sleep. Loki decided it would be cruel to disturb her. He departed with a smile of tender amusement.

* * *

Over the course of a few days, Loki decided to grow a beard. Normally he would've declined at the prospect. Asgardians saw them as a sign of manhood; Loki only saw it as a bother. His face had been kept clean-shaven for hundreds of years. He failed to see what made facial hair appealing, particularly when food got into it. His disgust with Volstagg during feasts was enough to discourage him from growing a beard to mirror his father and brother. Loki had endured the teasing from many Asgardian men, and even some women at court. Prince Baby Face, they used to call him. He didn't know why he wanted a beard all of a sudden. He couldn't put a finger on the exact reason.

'The only good thing about beards is that women seem to like them.'

He thought of Natasha, then furiously shook his head. It couldn't be that he wanted to look more like a man to her...or could it?

Loki concluded that if anyone asked, he would say he was either too lazy to grab the razor, or he simply wanted to try something new. He would furiously scratch at his stubble. He had forgotten how much a new beard itched. Loki kept it trimmed and short. The beard around his lips and chin was as dark as his hair. It made him look older, but not by much. At least he didn't look like a hairy mongrel like Volstagg, he assured himself.

The first time Tony saw it, he gave Loki a weird look but said nothing. Pepper was nice enough to complement him.

"Growing a beard, Loki? Very classy."

Loki couldn't resist smirking and he dipped his head courteously. "Thank you, Miss Potts."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh please. Nothing beats my goatee."

Then Loki had to attend to the matter of cutting his hair. In Asgard, every man and woman cut his or her own hair, just as every warrior tended to his own blade, and every scholar to his scrolls. Loki scoffed at the thought of Midgardians making a living by being "barbers," who were paid to cut off mere snippets of hair. There was no way Tony trusted Loki with anything sharp and dangerous in the vicinity. Loki had to man up by going to the kitchen and ask for a knife, at the same time insisting he cut his own hair. In a matter of minutes, he had his hair trimmed back to its previous length before his exile from Asgard. Which felt like ages ago.

Huginn and Muninn showed up at his balcony again, to restore his levitating and summoning had to make it quick, since they must keep talk short and scout for the Allfather. Loki was glad they went about business without arguing and pecking each other's heads out.

'Well...at least that takes care of the problems with changing clothes and carrying things.'

Loki assumed that he was given back his passive powers first, suitable for convenience but not strong enough to be harmful or destructive. He wondered how long it would be until Odin trusted him enough to restore the rest of his magic.

What prevailed his mind, however, was recollection of his nightly visit with Natasha. Something about her moved him, stirred up a feeling he had never experienced before. The surprising beauty of her voice...the beauty of _her_. And it struck him then, that Natasha truly looked lovely and beautiful.

He quickly checked himself and pushed away the absurd notion. That kind of thinking was dangerous. He was simply here to help Natasha through her suffering, not develop fancies as if he were some foolish young man. Certainly everyone else held her dear to their hearts and cared for her deeply.

Loki couldn't help asking himself, 'What is she to me? Not a comrade, not a sister...something less, or something more?'

* * *

_That's it for Chapter 9. Keep your eyes peeled for Chapter 10: Surrealism! It'll be an interesting one.  
_

_Lots of font changing in this chapter, since there's all these book titles and Nat typing out stuff on the laptop. It's an English major thing...since teachers and professors are so nit-picky about titles. Kinda funny though...how reluctant I was to put Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey in italics. I know there are lots of people who think they aren't real books lol.  
_

_I have this weird thing for imagining Loki with facial hair. I think he would look very dignified and kingly with a beard. Not to mention smokin' hot! :D How I'm imagining Loki right now is that he looks like Tom Hiddleston during the War Horse press conference, which I'm sure everyone knows those photos pretty well. Then replace the brown hair with black. -Slips shamelessly into fangirl mode- _

_So...how is it so far? Yay, nay or okay? Head down to the magical box and let me know. ;) [Gum]_


	10. Surrealism

**Chelsea Grin (10)**  
**Surrealism**

**"I feel they're getting closer**  
**Their howls are sending chills down my spine**  
**And time is running out now**  
**They're coming down the hills from behind."**  
**~"The Howling," by Within Temptation**

Loki continued to visit Natasha and made a routine of reading to her until sunset. He was able to finish _Crime and Punishment_, reading the last line quietly, "That might be the subject of a new story, but our present story is ended."

He closed the book shut and stowed it away. "Well, that's it. What should we read next? _War and Peace_?"

Then he thought better and shook his head with a wry smile. "Even I would get gray hair by the time I get through the entire book. Are Tolstoy's books always that big?"

**"He was a very dedicated scholar. He had a lot to say about life and the world."**

"True. I admire people of that sort. Writing is what I enjoy, but I feel that whatever I have to say isn't worth hearing."

Natasha paused before replying, **"You write?"**

He shrugged. "Whenever I had the time. I was raised to be a prince and a warrior, not a scholar. I have a collection of short poems and drabbles, nothing more. I've never shown them to anybody. Not even to my own mother. But someday...I could bring them down here and show them to you."

'If I ever had the chance to return to Asgard, that is.'

**"I look forward to seeing them one day."**

He smiled at her then. He wasn't sure whether she was just trying to be polite, or she really meant it. Somehow he was determined to keep to his end of the promise. He rose from her bedside.

"Have a good evening, Natasha. How about we read something from CS Lewis next time?"

**"Sounds good."**

But on the next day, Thor invited Loki to have lunch with him. The God of Mischief was going to speak up about seeing Natasha when he held his tongue. He didn't want Thor to think he had some sort of attachment to her. Still, he felt bad for going somewhere else without telling her.

The two brothers entered a deli restaurant together, with Thor's arm around Loki's shoulder. A man at the booth closest to them winked. A few people stared and seemed to smile in approval. An adolescent girl giggled among her friends.

"Hey, check out that couple. They're so cute."

Loki heard this, but Thor was oblivious. Embarrassed, The God of Mischief quickly shook off Thor's arm and hunched his shoulders. Thor looked a little hurt.

"What's the matter? It was merely a gesture of brotherly-"

"I understand." Then Loki said in disgust, "But to people in this world, it means something else entirely. They are quick to assume."

Thor caught on. "That we are...lovers? Preposterous!"

"I second that. Just be careful from now on."

Other than that little hitch, lunch was a pleasant affair. Thor seemed to be fond of casual dining here on Midgard. The sandwiches were surprisingly tasty, though Loki was initially appalled at the thought of using his fingers to eat.

"How are you faring in Midgard?" Thor asked.

"I'm doing well enough. Guess what I can do now."

Loki quickly glanced both ways. No one was looking. He extended his hand and made a show of making the salt and pepper float. Thor's eyes flew wide.

"You got more of your magic back? That is great news! Father's ravens must've stopped by your place."

"Yes, they did. Though I wonder when I will ever regain the rest of my abilities. Surely the Allfather won't let me perform illusionary arts anytime soon. Or my capability of energy projection, for that matter."

Thor chewed at his food thoughtfully before replying. "You have no love for this world, I know. It must be strange to you. Perhaps Father wanted to make you comfortable here. It's a sign of his love and trust. I'm sure of it, brother."

"Love and trust me? After all I had done?"

Thinking of Odin soured his mood. He could no longer eat his dwindling sandwich. How could Thor sit before him in a restaurant, eating a huge panini and exchanging small talk as if Loki had never killed that agent...and probably hundreds of others in this city? He thought of his punishment with the snake. Odin deserved the title of Allfather, with all his unsurpassed power and wisdom. But sometimes Loki was at a loss to what Odin had been thinking. How could he be so steel-hearted to carry out the punishment? At the same time, what made him decide that Loki returns to Earth, free of his sentence and comdemnation?

'He could not have done both out of love. I just cannot believe it.' Loki thought.

Thor reached out to put a hand on Loki's shoulder. "We grew up and have gone through much together. Don't doubt for a second that I see you as a true brother, just as much as our father sees you as a true son."

"Our father..."

Loki didn't bother to correct him, nor asked him to take his hand off. He sighed and managed a weak smile. When they finished lunch, Thor paid for both of them. He followed Loki back to the Stark tower and they parted ways. Loki spent the rest of his day re-practicing magic. He was flexing his mind, more or less.

When he visited Natasha again, the first thing he did was apologize.

"I'm sorry about not seeing you yesterday. Thor took me along for lunch."

"It's all right. The Captain and Dr. Banner stopped by while you were away."

"I see. And speaking of the others...where is Agent Barton? I haven't seen him around. Not that he would enjoy the company, of course."

Natasha hesitated before replying, "I can't tell you. But he won't be back in a while."

Loki was oddly relieved to hear that. He pulled up a chair to her bedside with the CS Lewis book in hand.

"I think I'll be reading _The Screwtape Letters_. It is such an intriguing work. The book is written as letters addressed to a demon named Wormwood, who is being taught by his uncle Screwtape how to tempt people."

Unsurprisingly enough, Loki made a great impersonation of Screwtape. His voice was low and sinister, bordering on comical as Screwtape constantly berated his nephew for being an incompetent oaf. He looked up from time to time, observing Natasha's reaction. As usual, she listened carefully and laid still in bed. But sometimes he thought he caught her pursing her lips, narrowing her mouth into a tight line. It was brief, a shadow of a movement. Loki could've easily missed it. But it was there. It was as if she was holding back laughter, from laughing aloud if she could. Somehow, the thought of that enlightened Loki.

_The Screwtape Letters_ was a short book. He was halfway through by the time he had to bid Natasha farewell. He went to bed that night, thinking it had been an all-around pleasant day.

He was wrong. It was back.

The darkness, the cold...the nightmare. Loki could only see the light of dying stars. The visibility of dark emptiness was frightening. Dread formed a hard, cold stone in his stomach.

'It's always the same. I'll be chased down and killed again.'

But nothing of the sort happened. Two stars glowed brighter than the rest. They pulsed and glittered, and suddenly a dreadful snarl sounded. Loki's head twinged in pain. The two stars became the eyes of a great black wolf. It detached itself from the darkness in an explosion of fur and claws. Loki turned tail and ran.

But he ran as if he was bogged down by deep, cold mud. He felt the wolf breathing down his neck. It sent chills up his spine. He feared to look over his shoulder. Ice-cold claws tore through his back, causing him to reel in agony. They took hold of him, never letting go. He felt his own blood spilling out and quickly growing cold, paralyzing him from head to toe. Loki opened his mouth to scream. But no sound came out. His throat was caught in the jaws of the wolf, and his heart lurched in terror the same time the beast gnashed its fangs together.

Loki lurched forward with a strangled cry. The wolf was gone. So was the darkness. His hand flew to his throat. He blew a shaky sigh of relief to feel his windpipe still intact. He opened his eyes, and found that the TV was still on. His hand groped for the remote. He flicked the TV off and squeezed his eyes shut as a headache pounded at his temples.

'How could I have forgotten to turn it off before I went to sleep?'

But that was the problem. Loki had intended to stay up late and watch some TV. He was in the middle of watching Game of Thrones when he...dozed off? It didn't make sense.

His thoughts cut off as he tried to soothe his headache. He laid back and let the soft pillows cushion his head. After a few minutes, the pain died away.

'I must be watching that show too much. Direwolves run in my mind as if they strayed from the television screen.'

Loki pulled the covers up to his chest and laid in bed serenely. But before he slipped into sleep, he couldn't help thinking that the nightmare seemed bizarre and unsettling.

The second time he dreamed was a few nights later. A huge black bear emerged from the darkness. Its ragged breath steamed from its slavering jaws, illuminating its dead eyes. Loki's own breath was light and shallow. He didn't know what would happen next. The bear reared up on its hind legs, towering over Loki by at least three heads. It uttered a terrible roar, but Loki could not move. Waves of pain pounded into his head. He could do nothing as the bear swung its huge paw straight at his torso.

Loki snapped back into reality, clutching his stomach. Feeling nauseated, he staggered to the bathroom. Thankfully he didn't vomit. He just felt tired as he leaned over the sink. Splashing cold water at his face relieved him a bit. But when Loki returned to bed, he didn't feel much better. He hated being caught between feeling fatigued and being unable to sleep.

'How long will this go on? If this keeps going, I won't be surprised if I'll be driven insane.'

During the day, Loki finished reading the rest of _The Screwtape Letters_ to Natasha. It took his mind off the nightmares, and he prayed that it would go away for good.

He was wrong again. This time he dreamed of a black crow. At first he thought it was perhaps Huginn or Muninn, traveling between dimensions to visit him in the realm of dreams. Odin could make them do that sometimes. But when he called out to the bird, it didn't respond. Nor did it appear friendly. It stared back at him through pale, dead eyes. Loki shut his eyes to avoid looking at it.

'I need to snap out of this. It isn't real. Wake up...wake up!'

But nothing happened. Loki opened his eyes and the crow was still there.

Then it uttered a harsh caw and flew at him. Again, as he did with the wolf and bear, he ran. But the crow caught up to him. It pecked at Loki's forehead, its beak like a sword threatening to split open his skull. He cried out and cursed the bird. It wouldn't stop, and it felt even worse than the fangs of a wolf or the claws of a bear. Then it _cackled_.

Loki woke up with a ragged scream. He trembled like a wet leaf in the wind. Cold and sticky sweat coated his entire body. Above all, his head pounded and his vision swam. He fell back into the pillows, trying to calm himself down.

'Gods help me. My nightmares are getting worse and worse.'

Each nightmare was filled with more blood, death and destruction. And each time, Loki woke up with a headache more painful than the last.

'Since my first nightly visit with Natasha and up until now, I had been sleeping just fine. Why are the nightmares back?'

Loki stared out the window. He found the city lights somewhat comforting despite the unnatural brightness.

'Black...the animal is always black. What could it mean?'

He groaned in pain as he felt the headache settle in. It had gotten so bad to the point he clutched a pillow, squeezed it against the sides of his head and growled in frustration.

'When will this hell ever end? Why is this happening to me?'

Then he remembered the crow's eerie laughter. It sounded too human to resemble an animal cry. A cold chill ran through Loki as it dawned on him.

'It's the Other. He is back to haunt my dreams and find me.'

He hunched over the bedside, troubled and deep in thought.

'No...if he knew where I was, he'd be here on Earth by now, with me dead at his feet. Or is it something else? Perhaps he _does_ know, but is simply waiting according to some other plan...some grander scheme?'

Loki didn't like to think the Other had won the internal battle. Even without his magic, Loki was well trained in the art of shielding his mind, to the point he did it unconsciously. But how long could he hold on? The Other, with his dark sorcery and through his dark animalistic forms, was undeniably growing stronger. Loki wasn't keen on thinking of anything possibly worse than the crow.

All this made him feel very frustrated and tired. It was tempting to take his mind off of it and sleep. But that was exactly what the Other wanted. Loki couldn't afford to lower his defenses.

During the daytime, he tried to occupy himself at the gym. But as he poured all his frustration and sleepless nights into a punching bag, he got so agitated that he sent it flying across the room. Loki cleaned up the sand with a wave of his hand. After that he decided to swim in the lap pool. He stripped down to what the Midgardians call "swimming trunks," and swam a few laps. Whenever he stopped to take a break, Loki would go to the deepest part of the pool. There he would submerge, sit at the bottom and remain still for a while. The water felt cool and refreshing. The pressure surrounding him felt firm and comfortable. But he knew that he couldn't stay in the water forever. He climbed out of the pool reluctantly and returned to his room for a shower.

It was through the lull of hot water and steam that drowsiness threatened to overcome him. He shook his head furiously, sending drops of water flying from his hair. A stab of pain seared through his head like a hot brand. He cascade of water didn't help. He abruptly shut off the showerhead and stepped out onto the bathroom. Hunched over and clutching the sink, he tried to catch his breath. He didn't bother to dry himself yet. The cold air kept him awake and alert.

Loki reached out and dragged his hand across the foggy mirror. His face, gaunt and pale, peered back at him. His eyes, edged with dark bruises, were filmy and dull from fatigue. He rubbed them with his knuckles and blinked several times. He finally stepped back to grab a towel and dry himself.

'I can't go to sleep tonight. It'll be a huge risk. What can I do in the mean time?'

Just as finished asking himself the question, there was also an answer. He changed into nice clothes, and teleported straight from the bathroom to the hospital.

Natasha was awake this time. She had been staring at the ceiling as she hummed. The digital notebook sat at her lap, as usual. When Loki appeared before her, she stopped.

"Please continue. You have a lovely voice."

She stiffened. **"You've heard me before?"**

"Many times."

A long pause ensued. Then she replied, **"...I'm not sure what to say about that."**

Loki actually burst out laughing. "Yes, I suppose you have good reason to be awkwardly baffled. I merely didn't want to disturb you from resting."

**"Speaking of rest...you look tired."**

Loki made a rueful smirk. "Hard not to notice, is it?" His eyes softened as he observed her more carefully. "You don't look so good yourself."

Her face was wry and somewhat defeated as she typed, **"I tried to get out of the bed and into the wheelchair. Even with the nurse helping me, it hurt like hell. I think I sat down too hard. After that, the nurse told me not to go to the gym. So here I am, back in bed, sore all over and unable to exercise."**

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Natasha typed out a slow, hesitant reply. **"I'm feeling...a little feverish right now. Could you...?"**

Loki nodded in understanding. "I know what you mean." He sat at her bedside, close enough to touch shoulders with her. His arms slowly turned blue. Like winter's first frost creeping on the ground, the patterns showed up as white lines and swirls.

Her cheek was warm and soft against his hand. She closed her eyes and exhaled quietly through her nose. She did not flinch as Loki stroked his thumb across her stitched scars. His touch was light and soft, barely a brush on her skin. He didn't know what possessed him to get in that close. This wasn't the first time Natasha saw his Jotun form. Nor was it their first time of touching each other.

Loki's low whisper broke the silence. "You must trust me an awful lot to let me get this close to you."

Her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze. Up close, they were mesmerizing. In the darkness, he couldn't tell whether they were a shade of green or blue. Perhaps they were both. He saw a storm in her eyes, constantly shifting like the tides or the winds. Most people liked to look at open, empty skies. Loki preferred looking at storms. To him, there was a certain beauty present in those roiling clouds and stirring waters. There was also power and majesty, something he also saw in Natasha's eyes.

Some would say that her gaze was unsettling and intimidating. They would quickly look away. Loki thought otherwise: her eyes were lovely and captivating.

A splitting headache suddenly broke the spell. Loki shut his eyes and winced. A peculiar feeling washed over him. As if his free hand didn't belong to him, it jerked towards Natasha. He stopped himself and veered off to hit the wall, just inches away from Natasha's face. His skin abruptly changed color, back to normal human pink. He snatched his hand from Natasha's touch and stumbled back. He tried to think of something, some kind of explanation for his behavior. But he couldn't.

"I shouldn't linger around any longer. I...I could be a danger to you. I'm sorry."

He caught her look of confusion before he disappeared from her sight. His room flashed back into his vision. He looked down at his hands in horror.

'I tried to _hit_her. What in the Nine Realms is wrong with me?'

He groaned and clutched both hands to his head. He remained that way on the bed for a while. Loki's head snapped up when he heard the door slide.

Tony entered the room, sporting a formal tie and suit. "Hey, just dropping by to let you know that there's a get-together on the first floor tonight. Everyone will be there. Well, except for Agents Romanoff and Barton. I'm guessing Legolas must be out for S.H.I.E.L.D. stuff, but Fury's keeping his lips sealed. So uh...if you feel like coming, dress up and play nice."

He was backing away when he reopened the door. He peered at Loki closely.

"Hey, you all right? Not looking too perky there."

Loki tried to dismiss it with a casual shrug. "Just watching too much television. I haven't noticed."

"Yeah, isn't my flat-screen awesome? Anyways, dinner tonight. Don't forget."

Tony shut the door, leaving Loki alone to decide.

Finally, he went to change into the same suit he wore when he went out with Thor, Jane and Darcy. He concluded that anything was better than sitting in his bed all night. He wished Natasha could join. But thinking of her made him think of what he could have done to her. He hated the guilt that followed afterwards. With a growl, Loki shook his head to clear the thoughts. He quickly checked himself at the bathroom mirror. His fingers brushed over his skin, especially under his eyes, as he worked some magic: to literally bring up the blood and mask his weary appearance.

The improvised effect was temporary, but it would have to do for now. Loki decided to walk downstairs. Voices drifted from below. He could hear tables being moved, silverware being assembled and drinks being poured. He could also hear Tony and Pepper talking, though they were nearly drowned out by the rap music playing at full blast.

Pepper had to raise her voice. "Tony, for crying out loud...can you change the music? I don't think our guests would want to hear Lil Wayne the entire night."

A few moments later, AC/DC's "Shoot To Thrill" reverberated across the entire floor. Hearing it instantly reminded Loki of that night in Germany.

"That's better, I guess." Pepper said. "I would prefer ambiance or classical jazz for the occasion."

Tony laughed. "Sorry, honey. Those aren't part of my musical vocabulary."

"I really wish we could invite Natasha over. She's an Avenger too."

"Yeah, but it just wouldn't work. We can't all crowd into her room and throw a fiesta. Besides, even if she could come, I don't think she's much of a party person anyway."

"There's more to her than you think, Tony." Pepper said. "She definitely knows how to dress and act classy. Better than you, even."

"Correction: no one's better than me at anything. Especially parties. That's the unspoken rule of this house...of _my _house."

"If this is _your_ house, why don't you do _your _work?"

"That's exactly what I'm doing, honey. I'm in charge of the drinks and music, remember? Hey Happy! We need more booze over here. There's a whole cooler of Bud Lite near the fridge."

"No, Tony...we have enough alcohol. This is a nice get-together, not a rave."

"Darn, Pepper...you're no fun."

When Loki finally arrived on the first floor, Tony was turning away from Pepper and heading out of the kitchen. He lounged across a couch while Pepper kept working. Steve and Happy were already there, helping her set up the table and carrying plates of food over.

Loki hung back, out of sight. He didn't want his presence and unpredictable behavior getting in the way. He also wasn't keen on seeing if his little cover-up would work or not.

He saw Pepper making an exasperated sigh as she glared at Tony and pointed to the Captain. "Look at this wonderful gentleman, who showed up early yet volunteered to help anyway. What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm watching for the others so I can welcome them through the doors."

"Tony. The doors are automatic."

"...I knew that."

"I swear...for a billionaire genius, you come up with the dumbest excuses in all of human history. Now I say this to you in the most loving way possible: _get your lazy ass over here and help me out_."

Steve tried not to laugh as Tony hurried into the kitchen to obey. The billionaire assigned himself to cutting up fruit.

"Why can't you just order food for catering?" he complained. "Makes it a hella lot easier."

"I want to do it the genuine, old-fashioned way. I'd rather have people enjoy something I make than something I can afford. Besides, it would be a shame to abandon this lovely kitchen."

Steve took the dish of diced potatoes from her with a smile. "I second you on that, ma'am."

Tony threw him a withering glare. "Don't you even..."

Pepper glanced from her work and saw Loki standing off to the side. She greeted him with a warm smile. "Hey, Loki. Glad you could join us. You're just in time for dinner. I have the pasta ready, with only a little pesto sauce and lots of cilantro. Just the way you like it. Don't be shy...come on over here."

He approached with hesitation. Suddenly he was seized by a terrible, burning anger. All sorts of thoughts sprang unbidden to his head.

'Who is this lowly woman to order me around? Why am I even here? I have the magic and the power...I do what I want, whenever and whatever I please!'

He tightened his fist and a growl escaped through clenched teeth.

"Forget your pathetic mortal food!" he snarled.

His outburst startled everyone at the table. Looking up at Pepper, the feeling grew even worse. She eyed him with mixed concern and uncertainty.

"Loki? Are you all right?"

His hand flew to his face and massaged his forehead. He tried to suppress the peculiar rage and turmoil. He grasped the countertop to steady himself. He waved a hand away and muttered, "It's nothing. Don't mind me. I apologize for being rude."

Pepper smiled nervously. "That's all right. You must've had a long night. Tony told me you looked tired when he came to tell you about dinner."

"Er, yes..."

He was loath to admit how weak he had been lately. Tony and Happy resumed their conversation about the latest sport cars while Steve continued to help setting up the table.

About twenty minutes passed before more guests arrived. Thor sauntered through the sliding doors with a beaming smile wide on his face. "Hello, everyone! I look forward to a pleasant evening with good food and good friends."

Jane and Darcy came behind Thor, followed by Bruce and Dr. Selvig as they heatedly discussed nuclear physics and quantum mechanics. Soon the room was filled with exchange of warm and cordial greetings.

"Hey, mind if I join your little science talk?" Tony asked.

"Not at all." Bruce replied. "We're just talking about the possibilities of finding nuclear phenomena from outer space."

"Ooh, exciting. What a turn-on! Grab some beer, sit down and let's go."

The three scientists sat down, and Jane shyly approached them.

"Er, hi...I overheard you, and I was wondering if I could join too."

Dr. Selvig smiled warmly at her. "Of course you can."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, this isn't a science frat or whatever." he looked up at her with interest. "I don't think we've met before. You must be Thor's girlfriend."

Jane was about to open her mouth and properly introduce herself when Darcy rushed to her side.

"This is Jane Foster, my best friend who knows everything about stars and galaxies and stuff."

Tony gave Jane a hearty handshake. "Welcome to the club. I admire smart chicks like you."

Loki distanced himself from the rest, feeling weary and gloomy. Even if they were civil with him now, he would never be a part of the Avengers and their friends. He was only an outsider and a criminal to them, a disgrace on what they stand and fight for. It was the hard truth.

Thor finally noticed his adopted brother. He grinned broadly and approached him with open arms. "Brother! What a pleasant surprise! It's so good to see you."

Loki met Thor's eyes. It was his biggest mistake. As if his body belonged to someone else, Loki snatched up a butcher knife from the kitchen counter. He felt no more than a puppet tugged by its strings, made to do some unknown bidding. Undoubtedly something horrible. He charged at Thor, the knife tight in his raised fist.

* * *

_Yay, nay or okay? Or was that cliffhanger too cruel for you guys? :P [Gum]_


	11. Fight For the Soul

_In recent reviews I have heard mixed opinions about Loki's new beard. They were mostly positive, though there are some who can't imagine him with one. That's okay with me. Everyone's entitled to his or her opinion. Now, I'm not thinking of having him shave it off all of a sudden. So I hope you can bear with me for the rest of the story. :) [Gum]_

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (11)**  
**Fight For the Soul**

**"Forgive us of our trespasses**  
**As we forgive those who trespass against us**  
**And lead us not into temptation**  
**But deliver us from evil."**  
**~The Lord's Prayer/Our Father (Catholic version)**

Time seemed to stop. Pandemonium ensued.

Loki slammed into Thor and both fell to the floor. Steve leaped forward to tackle Loki before he could plunge the knife down. They hit the table and it lurched. Dishes fell. Pepper screamed. Jane was pulling Thor back by the arm. Darcy just stood there, completely shocked. An unintelligible roaring pounded in Loki's ears. He could barely see what was going on. All he knew was that Steve was pinning his arms down with crushing force. Tony bellowed something. A horrible pain seared through his wrist. Loki's body jerked and shuddered uncontrollably. Something smashed into the side of his head. His eyes flew shut and he knew nothing more.

Loki finally stirred awake into a world of pain.

Bright light flooded through the cracks of his eyelids. He groaned and blinked rapidly. His hands were bound to the armrests of a silver chair. The metal felt cold and hard against his skin. He leaned back wearily, his breaths ragged and shallow. The loud hiss of sliding doors made him flinch. Director Fury entered the room, giving Loki a single-eyed grim gaze. He took a seat across from him.

Both men said nothing for a few seconds. Then Fury cleared his throat and finally spoke, "So...care to tell me about that little riot you started back at the tower?"

Loki furrowed his brow. "I...I don't know."

"What do you mean, 'you don't know?' If this is one of your ways of lying and weaseling your way out-"

"I am not lying. I speak the truth."

Loki's vehement reply reverberated around the room. He slumped in the chair, wishing for a better place to rest his head.

Fury cocked an eyebrow, but his gaze did not falter for a moment. "That's new. So is your recent behavior. Why the sudden change, Loki? Up until now, you've caused no trouble and stayed low. I would even say you got along with the Avengers."

Loki sighed in frustration. "The problem that ails me is beyond your understanding. I must talk to Thor."

Fury said nothing for a long time. Loki was starting to think his request was denied, that he would be doomed to be apprehended by the no-nonsense Director for the rest of the night. Finally, Fury sighed and rose.

"Fine. I'll bring him in here."

Thor came in a few minutes. He took Fury's place across from Loki, though he moved a few inches closer. Loki saw no anger in Thor's face. Just sadness and confusion. Loki couldn't bear to look at him any longer. He lowered his gaze to his hands. To his surprise, they were marked with bright red cuts. The blood had dried, and now it made his hands stiff.

Loki sighed. "Tell me what happened. Tell me everything."

Thor fingered at his beard with absentminded strokes. He spoke with slow, careful hesitation. "You went for me with a knife in hand. Captain Rogers jumped to stop you. Both of you ran into the table and spilled the plates. There was broken glass strewn all over the floor. Tony said what was called a 'voice command' to trigger that mechanism on your wrist. But you were still struggling. The Captain had to knock you out with a blow to the head. Dr. Banner, Jane, Darcy and Pepper remained to clean up. Then we brought you here."

"I see..." Loki muttered. "...Is anyone hurt?"

"No...just you, brother. Some shards of glass cut into your hands. There has been no casualties tonight."

Loki's heart lifted in relief. He didn't mean to hurt anybody. And if he did...he didn't want to think about the possibilities. "I had no intent on attacking you, Thor. I believe there's some sort of malevolent influence...I felt as if the hand that held the knife wasn't mine."

Thor didn't seem to disbelieve Loki's proposal. "Is it still in control now?"

"No, I don't feel it now. But who knows how long I will go on before it would happen to me again?" Loki adjusted himself in the uncomfortable restraints. "I need time to think. Somewhere quiet and peaceful would suffice, so I may compose myself and calm down. More importantly, I need to get to the bottom of this dilemma."

"What do you have in mind?"

Loki closed his eyes, trying to picture the holographic maps he had seen a while ago. "I remember seeing a temple and its gardens, a little away from the city. Yes, perhaps I could go there."

Thor let a slow, tired sigh escape him. "Very well. I will relay this to Director Fury. Perhaps he will approve."

Loki sat still in the chair while Thor was away for a while. The cuts on his hands were already fading away. When he was starting to think that Thor would never return, Loki looked up to see Thor entering the room again. At the same time, the cuffs at his hands opened with a loud click. Loki rose and flexed to bring blood and warmth back to his hands and feet.

"The Director grants you permission...on one condition." Thor said. "You must come back to this room after you're done. He said that the tracker is still functional. It would activate if he or S.H.I.E.L.D. suspects any sketchy activity."

Loki couldn't help but reply wryly, "Nothing new to me. Off I go, then."

"I'll go with you, brother. Is there anything I could do to help?"

Loki felt oddly moved by Thor's response. Still, he shook his head. "No. Thank you for the offer, but I must do this alone. I have to find out how I can stop this madness. I need to look for answers. And...I don't want the risk of hurting you again."

Thor's eyes lit with warmth upon hearing Loki's sincerity, softening the solemn look on his face. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

Loki teleported to the Buddhist temple with no problem. At such late hours, hardly anyone was around. Only the gardens, ponds and stepping stones greeted him with their quiet, beautiful splendor. It was literally a sanctuary from all the noise of the city.

Loki climbed up the steps to enter the main temple. Numerous statues of Buddha surrounded its interior. They stared back at Loki through unmoving eyes and perpetual smiles. Each of them had different hand poses, though all were seated in the same meditative posture. Stone dragons guarded the entrance. They encircled and filled the temple ceiling. They were like snakes with flames trailing from their faces and limbs. Unlike dragons of the west, those of the east were supposed to be benevolent and wise, bringers of good luck. Loki didn't think they looked benevolent or wise. They seemed to glare down at him, with eyes of accusers. As if they knew of his crimes, and damned him for trespassing upon their sanctuary.

While Loki knew much of the Scandinavian countries on Midgard, he was unfamiliar with the Far East and their lore. What he did know was that they seemed to be philosophically oriented. From the looks of the gardens, they seemed to focus on the importance of nature and balance.

That was what he needed now: the focus and strength to concentrate. He hoped to find it here.

Loki looked around. He saw that he was alone. Sitting at the center, he crossed his legs. He let his hands rest on his lap. His chest swelled as he took a deep, long breath and closed his eyes. He needed to leave the physical world and enter the depths of his heart and mind.

Clusters of faded stars and nebulas gradually came into view. It was the same dead space that occupied his nightmares. But in the distance, an archipelago of rocks hovered like islands among the stars.

'That must be where the Other is,' Loki thought.

He headed for the rocks, despite the danger that lurked ahead. His mind raced; he had to think fast. There was no way he could just appear in his present state. He had to transform.

Shapeshifting was a fascinating art, but difficult to master. Configuring one's body entirely, smoothly and without fail took a lot of energy and control. But this was a dream. This was different. In the mind, where imagination was immense and the possibilities were endless, Loki could be whatever he wanted...without enduring the strain of physical transformation.

He shapeshifted into a little black cockroach. He felt the antennaes: long stalks that waved wildly over his head as he tried to adjust to this new environment. They curled a little at the ends, much like the way his helmet was styled. Under normal circumstances, he would never stoop this low. Whenever he shapeshifted, Loki always preferred predators like a wolf, a hawk or a snake. But this time, pride and dignity must be put aside...it would do him no good to be any bigger than the bug he was now.

Loki quickly and quietly scuttled to the closest rock. He huddled there, shrouded in darkness and out of sight. Daring to peek over, Loki caught sight of the Other. His heart clenched. The Other, obscured by his robes and bizarre hood, knelt before an enormous figure.

"Hail Thanos of Titan, son of Mentor, born and raised the first and strongest of his royal sons-"

"Enough with the titles." A deep voice rumbled. "My patience is wearing thin."

The figure turned, and starlight illuminated his body. But he was unlike anything Loki had ever seen. This mysterious being, Thanos, did not look like he hailed from any of the Nine Realms. Some kind of crown adorned his broad, ape-like head. Though not quite as tall as the Frost Giants, he had a sturdy, hulking frame enough to dwarf and crush any Midgardian. His eyes burned like blue fire as he looked down at the Other.

'Thanos...so that is his master.'

"Have you found the Trickster?" Thanos asked. "What news do you have of your efforts to locate him?"

The Other sounded hesitant. "He is alive, that is certain. I've managed to create a tangent to his mind through dreams. As for his precise location...unfortunately, that remains to be determined."

"Have you searched in Asgard?"

"My reluctance for searching there is the same with yours, my lord. It's too big of a risk. The Allfather and his army are frighteningly formidable. Without them I would be able to locate Loki, and you would be able to possess the Infinity Gauntlet."

Loki stiffened upon hearing that. The Infinity Gauntlet, a tool filled with unimaginable danger and power, was safely housed in Asgard's hall of relics. Though the Destroyer was no longer present to guard the hall, Loki was certain that the Allfather devised some other, equally effective way to keep the relics away from the wrong hands. He was glad to assume that for all the power Thanos might have, he wasn't strong or stupid enough to boldly challenge Asgard and take whatever he wanted.

"Have you ever considered that Loki could've been captured and punished by Asgardian justice?" Thanos asked. "Perhaps we could negotiate with the Allfather to rid them of their least favorite 'Aesir.'"

The Other responded with bitterness thick in his voice. "Even so, my lord, negotiation would not work. I will not speak of it, but my people are not in good terms with the Allfather. My request would be denied, and war would break out. Fortunately, I am certain that Loki is not hiding in Asgard."

"Very well. What have you done to find him?"

"I have attempted dream infestation, hypnosis and even possession. It would be much easier to accomplish if he still had the scepter at hand. But with the Chitauri forces significantly weakened and Loki's power diminished, I'm afraid the task has become very difficult."

The Other stopped, tentatively waiting for the reaction of his superior. After a few seconds, Thanos seemed to grumble in disapproval.

The Other spoke again. "My lord, may I ask a question? Why are you suddenly so interested in hunting down Loki? He is weak and incompetent, hardly any use to us."

"I do not care for his usefulness. Or lack of it, for that matter. After that humiliating blunder on Earth, his whereabouts never crossed my mind or concern. But that has changed." Thanos paused and a pregnant, eerie silence followed. Then he said, "Mistress Death wants him dead."

Loki's little cockroach body quivered. This was very crucial information he was hearing.

"Why, my lord? What does she want?"

"That is none of your concern. In the mean time, continue your search for him. Sniff him out, probe for him among the darkest holes and deepest cracks. I want that slippery trickster found, understood?"

"Yes, my lord. Of course."

"Do not fail me, Salastarr. Continue to perform your dark magic as much as you please. Just bring me his _corpse_."

"Understood, Lord Thanos. Your wish is my command."

'Salastarr? Where have I heard that name before?'

Loki desperately wanted to know more. But he was losing grip. He felt his energy running out, and he knew he didn't have much time to retreat safely. If Salastarr caught him lurking in the shadows, he was in for big trouble. A sudden rush of fatigue engulfed Loki as he tried to pull back into reality.

'I need to focus...be strong! I can't lose myself into this!'

But the stars and rocks faded away as Loki tumbled slowly into black oblivion.

It seemed as if eons came and went. Loki groaned as he willed himself to blink open heavy eyelids. His head ached from the hard stone wall behind him. Something damp and soft covered his forehead. He heard soft and slow chanting drift to his ears.

"_Jiedi, jiedi, boluo jiedi, boluoseng...jiedi, puti suopohe_..."

Loki blinked his eyes open and sat up. A cloth slipped from his forehead to fall into his lap. He could smell something herbal wafting from it. The chanting stopped. An old man in an orange robe knelt close to him. His shaved head gleamed from a soft light nearby. His small dark eyes, pulled back by age, peered from behind thick spectacles.

"Good, you are awake. I feared you were not well. I have been praying a sutra, hoping you would open your eyes."

His voice was slow, tinged with a heavy accent, and almost musical. Loki blinked several times and rubbed at his head.

"Do you need me to call the hospital?" the old man asked.

Loki shook his head and suppressed a wince. "No need for that...I'll be fine. What happened to me...?"

"I saw you at the temple. You seemed to be very deep in thought...almost in a trance, it seemed. So I did not want to disturb you. Then I saw you looked very troubled. You were as stiff and rigid as a rod, sweating and pale. Then you fainted on the floor. I moved you to the monastery so you could rest and be away from the public eye."

"I see," Loki murmured. "You must be a monk, then. Please...forgive me for any trouble I've caused."

"No need for apology. You are welcome to stay here as long as you like until you feel better." The old man clasped his hands together and made a little bow. "I am Ming, head monk of this temple. Who are you?"

Loki followed his gesture. "My name is Loki. I'm...not from around here."

Ming nodded his head slowly. "I could tell. I have seen many people come and go throughout the seasons and years. Yet there are not many like you. What troubles you, friend? You look very unsettled."

Loki stared down at his hands. There was no way he could possibly explain his dilemma, an alien threat, to a Buddhist monk. He tried to think of a way to properly express his misgivings. But nothing came to mind. Finally he sighed and shook his head. "You would think it strange. You won't understand."

"There are many things we all do not understand. That is why we seek the higher truth, however foolish it may look. But there is no shame in that."

Loki felt less of an idiot to ask. He did want to know, after all. "...How does one succumb to possession? Do you believe in such a thing?"

Old Ming seemed to ponder a few seconds before responding. "People are quick to say that demons and evil spirits do not exist. That is not true. They can live inside our hearts. They have many names...hatred, jealousy, pride, anger...let it fester like poison, and it will consume and control you. It is strange...how they harden the heart but soften the mind."

"Harden the heart and soften the mind..." Loki murmured to himself.

Could his ill feelings towards Thor have opened his mind for Salastarr to toy with? It was highly plausible, considering how he had fled to Salastarr imploring for an army, freshly stung from his defeat and exile from Asgard. Loki was determined not to lose the battle. Painful as it may seem, he had to find out what Salastarr and Thanos were scheming. What kind of connection did Thanos have to Mistress Death? Above all...why did she want _him_ dead?

Loki rose unsteadily to his feet. "I must get going. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"You were no bother. I enjoyed your company."

"And I enjoyed yours." Loki was going to head out when he hesitated. He turned to face the monk. "Thank you for your counsel. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Loki. The gates are always open if you're ever in need of coming to the temple again. This is a sanctuary where you can safely dispel any worries or troubles." Ming bowed to him. "Have a good evening, and go in peace."

Loki managed to dip his head before heading out. He made sure he was not seen before he teleported. The image of his new confinement at S.H.I.E.L.D. should've come to mind. Instead, he found himself going to Natasha's room. She was awake, and from her bed she gave him a confused stare. Loki was relieved to find no hostility in her eyes.

Even though he approached her with caution, a sense of urgency gripped and compelled him to speak. "Natasha...there's something I have to tell you. Will you hear me out?"

She stared curiously at him, prompting him to continue. He paused to bite his lip and wring his hands. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Stark was hosting a gathering at his tower, and I was invited to join the rest of the Avengers and their friends. I've done something terrible." Loki steeled himself, but his voice wavered when he finally mustered the courage to continue. "I...I attacked Thor, and tried to kill him."

Loki was quick to respond to her look of alarm. "Do you recall that time I had the scepter? When I had made Agent Barton and Dr. Selvig do my bidding?"

'Of course she would. I had turned her closest comrade into a mindless drone.'

He wanted to explain this to her the best he could. Even he didn't understand it all that much.

"Someone else was pulling the strings. I...wasn't me..." Loki looked away out of guilt. "This does not excuse the murders I've committed by my own hand, all the people that have suffered because of me. But there was a higher power...something strong enough to amplify my hatred in destructive proportions. The real culprit is-"

The sound of the door opening cut Loki off. Startled, he spun around. Director Fury stormed in with a revolver in hand. Loki didn't need the light to see that his face was livid and furious.

"What do you think you're doing here?" he demanded. "I gave you strict orders to return to your exact spot after your little escape."

The contrast of the monk's kindness to Fury's aggressiveness was jarring. Loki swiftly held up his hands in an attempt to placate the S.H.I.E.L.D. commander. "Director, there's no need to take up arms against me. I swear, I have done no harm to Natasha." He didn't dare mention what he did earlier, when he had hit the wall just a little away from her.

Fury kept the revolver at arm's length and on level with Loki's chest. From the open door, Tony, Bruce, Steve and Thor filtered into the room. Apparently they had accompanied Fury in the search for Loki. They all stared at him, looking wary and confused.

"I only came here to speak about a very urgent matter." Loki insisted.

"You could've gone to me for this very urgent matter. Why go to Agent Romanoff first?"

Loki's shoulders slumped as he sighed. Finally, he muttered in a low voice, "I thought that only she would believe me."

Fury lowered the revolver, and only then did curiosity gradually replaced the anger in his single eye. "Since we're all here, would you like to tell us?"

'This is my golden opportunity. I can't afford to mess this up. Sometimes the truth is more cruel than any lie...but it must be told.'

He decided to start from the beginning. The very beginning. "I grew up in Asgard, surrounded by Asgardians and raised in the Asgardian ways. But I am not an Aesir."

Donning on a different skin, and at the same time feeling as if he was stripping naked, Loki revealed his darkest secret by revealing his red eyes and blue skin for all to see. Steve's eyes flew wide. Bruce made a sharp intake of breath. Surprise flashed in Fury's eye for a second. Tony actually took a step back. Only Thor and Natasha didn't react with shock or surprise. Loki thought he saw sadness written on their faces as they gazed at him.

"I am Loki Laufeyson, a Frost Giant, born small and weak on the icy wastelands of Jotunheim. My real father left me to die, and Odin saved me from that fate. Thor and I grew up as brothers; for the longest time I reassured myself that blood ran thicker than our differences. I was wrong. My reign on Asgard was short-lived. I attempted to destroy Jotunheim so I could please Odin, the man I called my father. Thor intervened and defeated me in battle. I was cast out from Asgard and dwelt under the shadow of exile for what seemed like ages. A sorcerer came to me with promises of revenge, and the means to carry out that revenge. He never told me his name or where he came from. He made me simply address him as 'the Other.' When I was deemed ready to lead, he provided the army of Chitauri soldiers for me. And so...with renewed vengeance and an army at my back, I began my crusade against Earth."

Loki shifted his weight and felt slightly nervous at everyone giving him their undivided attention. "You know the rest. Regarding my current presence on Earth, I've been plagued by terrible nightmares...and most recently, temporary possession. Now I know why. The Other, who I found out to be named Salastarr, was behind all of it. He is trying to find me."

"Why? Did you find that out as well?" Thor asked.

"Unfortunately, I wasn't able to catch everything. Salastarr serves some other, more powerful being called Thanos, who mentioned something about Mistress Death." Loki shook his head in frustration. "He wouldn't tell Salastarr either. I wish I knew everything, but I don't. There's something familiar about Salastarr that I just can't grasp at the moment."

Tony furrowed his brow in confusion. "So if this Salastarr was bending you to his will the whole time, did you really want to take over Earth?"

"Yes and no...I don't know." Loki never felt so irritated and conflicted. There were a lot of things he didn't know. "I was blinded by hate, stung by rejection, filled with delusions that I had another chance to command respect and acceptance." He turned to face Natasha. "It was you...who made me doubt whether my ambition for conquest was what I really wanted. 'It was too late,' I told Thor. Too late to stop everything that had gone wrong."

Suddenly he felt weary and defeated. "I've been wanting to say sorry...and thank you. I'm sorry for any pain and ill will on my part. And thank you for helping me realize what a blind fool I've been."

Loki fell silent, with nothing more to confess. Fury had been contemplating everything Loki had said. Then he looked to Natasha.

"Agent Romanoff? What do you think of this whole thing? Do you believe him?"

All eyes turned to her, waiting for her response. Finally, Natasha nodded. To Loki, it was as if her eyes were saying "If I could believe that his mouth was sewn shut by Dwarves, I would believe this."

Fury nodded with finality, his single-eyed glance sweeping the room and everyone in it. "Well...I think we've all bothered Agent Romanoff enough for tonight." He turned to Loki. "Unfortunately for you, you're still under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody. Rest assured, throwing you into an interrogation cell is the last thing we'll do. Behave and we'll take care of you."

"Does that mean I don't have to look after him anymore?" Tony asked.

"Yes. From here on, Loki is free from your responsibility."

The billionaire broke into a wide grin. "Hallelujah!"

"That's funny because of two things: one, you're atheist. And two, you've never really watched over him in the first place."

The atmosphere lightened up considerably when Steve laughed along with Bruce's jest. Loki allowed himself to be ushered by Fury back to his quarters. He cast one last glance back at Natasha before leaving. Thor, Steve and Bruce parted ways to leave the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility and head home. Tony was about to leave when Loki broke his silence.

"How are things back at the tower?"

"We still managed to have dinner, thanks to the ladies working miracles with the cleaning. The Avengers had to leave in the middle of eating when we found out you apparently went AWOL. You took up quite the majority of our conversations, in fact."

"I'm sorry for the trouble and upsetting everything. Could you at least let Miss Potts know that?"

"Yeah. You gave her quite a scare."

"One more thing," Loki quickly said.

Tony spun around on the spot, looking cranky and irritated. "What do you want now, Rock of Ages?"

"Could you do me a favor and stop by my former room?"

"What for?"

"I still have three books on the nightstand. Could you please return them to the New York public library for me?"

Tony looked as if he didn't expect that response. Suspicion faded from his eyes. "Uh, sure...I'll take care of it."

"Thank you."

Tony nodded and hurried down the hall, but Loki didn't have anything more to say. Loki and Fury took an elevator up several floors when the God of Mischief spoke again.

"Am I still permitted to visit Natasha and the temple?"

Fury pensively stared through the elevator's glass window. "Is that what matters to you now?"

Loki didn't know what to make of that question. He could only respond with tentative admittance and honesty by nodding.

"Considering you had wanted the whole world before, I'd say these are fair terms of agreement between us. I want to know answers too. I'm the commander of an international government agency that, frankly, deals with the weirdest shit that shows up on this planet. Feel free to tell me anything you manage to get your hands on. I'd believe anything, and so would Agent Romanoff."

Loki found that reassuring in some ways. When he was alone in his quarters, he spent the rest of the night mulling over everything that had happened in an overwhelming whirlwind. He had to find out why he had to be found and killed. At the same time, he must not be discovered. It was dangerous, and could very well cost his life. But he was willing to do it for the sake of justice and his own redemption. He came to one conclusion:

'Before I make peace with the people I've hurt...I must make peace with myself.'

* * *

_My immediate family is Catholic but I'm surrounded by Buddhist relatives and friends. My great-grandfather is a Buddhist monk (yeah, he's REALLY old) and I talked to him a bit for info and inspiration. He asked me why, but I don't think he'd understand if I said it was for a BlackFrost fic. Oh, and don't ever do what Loki did and go to an unlit Buddhist temple alone at night. Especially when all the dragons, lions and statues are staring into your soul. Just speaking from personal experience here lol.  
_

_The Other's name was just something I made up. I must admit that I'm not all that familiar with the comicverse. I know, shame on me. I decided to pick out details that would fit this story._

_Chapter 12: Stars Collide is next! It's gonna be a really exciting chapter, I promise. ;D [Gum]_


	12. Stars Collide

_Hey guys, are you ready for more excitement and BlackFrost fuzzies? [Gum]_

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (12)**  
**Stars Collide**

**"You gotta feel the dance**  
**It's always in your heart**  
**Feeling the time to come**  
**Beat of the rising sun**  
**I wanna feel your heart**  
**The power of the sun!"**  
**~"Beat of the Rising Sun," by Dave Rodgers**

Loki didn't know how he got here. He didn't even know where he was. All he knew was that he was alone with Natasha. She seemed to look frail, feverish and unwell again. His heart went out for her. He pulled Natasha into his embrace and let his cool touch soothe her. He tugged open his shirt, exposing his bare chest. Natasha rested her cheek against him.

Then Loki did something unimaginable, almost unreasonable. With his fingers he tilted her chin upwards...and leaned down to kiss her.

He didn't know how. He didn't know why. And he didn't bother to sort it out. Only one thought ran dominant in his mind: she was his. All his, and no one else's. She gently broke the silence with sighs only he could hear. He muffled her moans by crushing his lips against hers.

Loki woke with a start. He lurched forward in his bed, breathing in deep, husky pants. A persistent, needy heat burned in the core of his body. When he pulled himself to sit up, he thought he felt a strange stir in his groin. Loki lifted the covers with a tentative tug. He blushed madly at the sight. He fell back into bed with a groan and put a hand over his face.

'Loki, you bloody idiot.'

He kept his eyes wide open and waited for his body to cool down. He dared not close his eyes again. Sleep couldn't come to him. Loki threw back the covers and sat up. Eventually he rose to pace around the room. The cramped space of his quarters made him feel anything but relaxed. He teleported to the temple instead. Open space and environmental beauty was what he needed to clear his head.

He took long, hasty strides down the gravel trail, with no specific destination in mind. He nearly ran into a duck, which took its time across the path. A pair of ducklings bobbed and waddled behind it. The smaller one struggled to catch up. Loki stopped by the lake-shore, standing on the smooth rocks and staring at the water.

'Where in the Nine Realms did that dream come from?'

Until now, this very night, he had never lusted after a woman. Many of them in Asgard were angelically attractive. That much was true. But Loki invested his time in magic and academic learning rather than courting maidens. As the second son of Odin, he never had to bear the pressure of taking in a wife and producing heirs. Unlike many men his age, Loki never had so much the slightest interest.

Even Freyja, the beautiful temptress from the royal house of Vanaheim, had no power over him.

She once attempted to seduce him, of all people. That baffled and irritated him. He figured she was just desperate for attention..._very_ desperate. She could, after all, boast that she had won the heart of an Asgardian prince. But Loki had cruelly dashed her hopes that day. Freyja took her time approaching him...swaying stride, sultry grin and all. She moved closer to brush up against him. Then he conjured snakes that hissed and writhed in his arms. The horrified, ear-piercing shriek that followed became the object of laughter and amusement as Loki told the story to Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three.

Loki left the lake-shore and went to see if the main temple was vacant. No one was inside, so Loki took his place at the center. He sat there, deep in thought.

Sometimes there were monks occupying the temple. To pass the time, Loki would take a stroll through the gardens. That in itself was a peaceful and quiet. One time he observed a funeral from afar. The temple was flooded by attendants wearing white headbands and white robes. The air was heavy with incense and the monks' chanting dirge. He had seen old Ming among them. The whole thing reminded him of Mistress Death.

'Does Thanos refer to her as merely a metaphorical figure? Or a real woman?'

He assumed that if she existed somewhere in the Nine Realms, she had some sort of affiliation with Niflheim. It was unspoken knowledge that mention of the hidden underworld, the realm of the dead, was not something to be encouraged. No one liked to talk about it. As immortals, fear of death was natural. Fear of a _glorious_ death, however, was something else entirely. Asgardians were always fond of valor, strength and glory. Honor in battle meant honor in Valhalla, the afterlife reserved only for the greatest heroes. Anyone who didn't live and die by the sword was doomed to dwell in Niflheim instead.

Naturally, Loki opposed this way of thinking. He felt that other people deserved a fair chance to enter Valhalla. Not that he suggested _he_ had a shot at it. His crimes overwhelmed any glimmer of redemption, no matter how hard he tried.

Loki abruptly broke his train of thought. He was thinking too much; he should focus on slipping into what he called the "dead space" and eavesdrop on Salastarr. He closed his eyes and lapsed into a dream-like trance. He hoped Salastarr would show up this time. There were nights when he made a no-show, and Loki had to pull back into reality. He had no idea where Salastarr went whenever he wasn't with Thanos. It wasn't uncommon for Loki to return to his quarters with disappointment and unanswered questions.

This time he struck gold. His heart skipped with apprehension when he got a glimpse of the two figures. He performed the usual shape-shifting procedure and hid among the rocks as a little bug.

Like a wraith, Salastarr appeared from a cloud of dark smoke. His robes billowed as he knelt before Thanos. "My lord, I'm afraid I have bad news..."

"As you usually do. What is it this time?"

Salastarr's sigh of frustration rattled through his mouth-guard. "Finding the trickster is proving increasingly troublesome."

"Perhaps your efforts are...insufficient. Have you considered doubling the search and assistance from your fellow sorcerers?"

"That and more." Salastarr appeared stung by the first remark. "Though weak and incompetent, Loki's wit and cunning are not to be underestimated. He was, after all, responsible for the downfall of my people, the Orodruin."

Loki stiffened in alarm. Salastarr of the Orodruin. No wonder he seemed familiar. Many centuries ago in Asgard, practicing magic had been widely accepted and even respected. But a group of sorcerers, the Orodruin, got themselves too deep in dark magic. The founding members were rumored to be Dark Elves, who came to Asgard as foreign merchants. They offered their services to superstitious folk, eventually recruiting Asgardians in the process. Their rituals always involved fire and blood. Sacrifices would be dedicated to their namesake: a huge volcano in the Dark Elves' realm. They would use ashes to worship and contact the dead, giving the "Orodrunians" another name: the Black Hands. Loki heard a wild rumor that sometimes they drank the blood of their victims, forever staining their teeth red. Upon getting caught, only permanent exile awaited them. Loki would know...he had been the one to punish them, after all.

It had come to his attention that one of the head sorcerers condemned a Midgardian royal family with a curse, driving them to complete extinction. It was truly a terrible crime, one that would've given Asgard a bad name if Loki hadn't intervened.

He brought the case to the Asgardian court, deeming the Orodruin a disgrace to those who practiced magic for rightful purposes. He wasn't sure if his eloquent speech alone had convinced them. Some people had suspected that Loki himself was affiliated with the Orodruin. When the court brought this up, Loki had been quick to fiercely deny this. Thor's support for him led to a unanimous vote and a final sentence from the Allfather. Since then, Dark Elves were exiled from Asgard. They had retreated to their home world, Svaltafar. The two realms would forever be enemies. Anyone involved with the Orodruin also faced the penalty. Fortunately for Asgard, Dark Elves and their allies were not well versed in military power and strategies. Malekith, self-proclaimed King and Warlord of Svaltafar, ruled and negotiated through fear and tyranny. An alliance with him always involved blood in some way or another.

Just knowing Salastarr's identity alone told an awful lot. But whether Loki was one step closer to figuring out Thanos' plan, he did not know.

Thanos turned to face Salastarr. His eyes were as eerie and pale as the stars behind him. "Let your bitterness and hatred for the trickster fuel your desire to find him. I know how you Orodruin are also fond of serving Mistress Death. She too hates Loki." Thanos' voice lowered to almost a whisper. "Most of all, she fears him."

Salastarr's hiss was sharp with surprise. "How so? Death fears nothing."

Thanos' reply was tinged with disdain. "Much as you magicians adore her, I am closer to her than any of you would hope to be. She knows things, and tells me much. But I admit that even I do not know everything. There is something to that trickster...what he could do in the future. She has foreseen it, I think. As for exact answers, nothing is certain."

Loki could only eavesdrop for so long. He felt his energy running low the more he listened in on the conversation. He had no choice but to pull back. He was back in the temple, feeling fatigued yet elated from the amount of progress he made tonight.

He wished he had the endurance to prolong the trance, so he could follow Salastarr beyond the dead space. But hiding alone was already dangerous. Actively seeking the sorcerer would put Loki even more at risk. He decided to call it a day and get some rest.

But as he slept, the erotic dreams kept returning. Worse still, they grew stronger with almost every night. Should he feel ashamed that he...enjoyed them?

It came to a point when the kissing intensified, and Natasha was actually naked before him. Her body bore no trace of any wound or scar. Her face was whole, unmarked, almost glowing. She smiled at him, but not with the wounds that stretched across her lips. It was a real smile. She appeared to him an angel. Loki pressed his body against hers, savoring the physical contact between them. He went deeper and deeper...She threw back her head, her mouth open in silent ecstasy. He bowed his head and moaned as his seed spilled inside her. She felt good, so damn good. So soft and tight and wet and-

His eyes flew wide open, shattering the dream before it could go on even further. He trembled like a wet leaf. Cold sweat coated his neck, stomach and chest. At the same time, he felt as if he had been dipped in liquid heat. Most of all, his groin ached terribly. He felt both tired and exhilarated. Loki propped himself up against the pillows, trying his best to still his hammering heart. Suddenly, an unorthodox thought crossed his mind.

'What if...it's an involuntary line of defense against Salastarr?'

At first it seemed absurd. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He knew that the Orodruin sorcerer was doubling the efforts to get under his skin. And each time he tried, manifestations of Natasha would get in the way. But why?

'I certainly didn't _choose_ to have these dreams. The fact that they automatically fill my mind as I sleep confirms this.'

Loki concluded that it was a mixed blessing. They prevented the dark, terrible nightmares induced by Salastarr. On the other hand...Loki would never think of Natasha, let alone look at her, the same way ever again.

He couldn't get her out of his mind. She always appeared vivid, healthy and beautiful. Not that she wasn't beautiful now. But everything about her in the dreams was absolutely stunning. Her pale and smooth thighs...her eyes, though he couldn't tell whether they were blue or green...and her fiery red hair. She was snow, sea and fire all at once. He could never forget how vulnerable and accepting she was when she took him into her arms...between her legs...

Loki felt hot and brought a hand to his forehead. He didn't know what to do. Perhaps he should ask someone for help and counsel. Automatically he thought of Thor.

'_No_! No way in the Nine Realms. He's the last person I should consider. Knowing him, keeping secrets is beyond his capability.'

Then he thought of the monk and the temple. He sighed in relief. 'Of course. I could go to him for counsel. I wonder what he would have to say for my...problem.'

Loki teleported to the temple, keeping in mind that he was visiting during daylight hours. There were many isolated and secluded junctures of the garden. He had taken the time to know most of them. Reappearing amidst a tight cluster of bushes and ginkgo trees, Loki stepped out as naturally and nonchalantly as possible.

None of the bypassers took any notice of him. Loki made his way to the monastery, ignoring the tourists, nature enthusiasts and Buddhist acolytes who shared the gravel trails with him. The main temple was certainly occupied at this time. Fortunately he made no plans to be there. He needed Ming, not a chance to be alone.

When he arrived at the humble building, Loki stopped at the steps. He asked a young acolyte for the head monk. A minute later, Ming emerged with a friendly smile.

"Hello again, Loki. What can I do for you?"

"It's good to see you, Ming. There's a matter I must discuss with you urgently and privately."

"Of course. Please, come in with me."

Loki followed the monk inside. They took their places at a very low table. He followed Ming's example by kneeling on the pillows. He was used to Asgard's towering chairs and tables, so he found his current position slightly uncomfortable.

"Would you like tea?" Ming offered.

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

Even if he was offered strong and fiery mead, Loki would rather skip the formalities and get to the heart of the problem. He had no choice but to sit with quiet anxiety as Ming took his time pouring tea into a tiny cup.

"Are you sure, my friend? You look like a drink could calm you down."

"Very well..." Loki relented and accepted a second cup that Ming filled for him. As he blew and sipped, he tried to think of a logical explanation. Then again, his problem was anything but logical.

Memories of the dreams sprang unbidden to his mind. Remembering all the suggestive details made him feel ashamed. He shouldn't be thinking of such things at a holy place.

"Something on your mind?" the monk asked.

"Not something...someone."

Ming raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as he waited for Loki to continue. Loki stared at his cup pensively. The slow, ghostly trail of steam warmed his face.

"There's a young woman I know who has been grievously injured. I've been visiting her at the hospital...keeping her company and giving her solace."

"Is she not a friend of yours?"

"Not quite. To be honest, I don't know what to call her..."

"Why are you uncertain?" Ming asked. "If you have been seeing her, then you must care for her to some extent."

Loki furrowed his brow. He realized that this was the first time he was actually talking about his connection with Natasha to someone else. 'What is she to me?'

"It's more of sympathizing with her." Loki said. "I can't disclose details to you, but I had endured suffering similar to hers. It's through this that we have any kind of connection at all. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here in New York City."

'I wouldn't be here on this planet.'

Though he wasn't telling much, Loki spoke honestly. If it weren't for Natasha's plight, he would still be imprisoned and punished in Asgard. In a way, she saved him. But did he save _her_?

Ming folded his wrinkled hands sagely. "Suffering...the center of my way of life and its teachings. There is no escaping it, no matter how hard we try. But just because it exists does not mean we succumb to it. There's a way out of suffering. And as I had been taught, it's called the Noble Eightfold Path. Are you familiar with this?"

"I'm afraid not."

Ming brought forth a piece of paper and laid it flat on the table. With a pencil and a steady hand, he drew a wide circle. He divided it into eight even parts.

"We tend to think of paths as straight lines. However, this one is a wheel." Ming wrote in each part with strange letters Loki couldn't recognize.

"Right view, thought, speech, conduct, livelihood, effort, mindfulness and concentration. These are the spokes of the wheel. And every spoke is needed to keep the wheel turning." He pointed the pencil tip at the circle's center. "Here is the fixed point, when you've achieved all eight. The Nirvana."

"Nirvana..." Loki murmured. It sounded like Valhalla, and both seemed like heaven.

"Following the Noble Eightfold Path is like cultivating a garden." the monk went on. "In Buddhism, one cultivates wisdom. The mind is the ground and the thoughts are seeds. Following the Path is a way to care for the garden. Our faults are the weeds. Pulling them out is like weeding the garden. The harvest is real and lasting happiness."

Loki took another sip of tea to wet his throat. "I see. Could you explain more about this Nirvana?"

"Certainly. It is the state of everlasting peace and joy. We monks strive all our lives to reach this point. Ironically, we abandon material things to seek a higher way of living. Part of our mission is encouraging others to do the same. It is the end to all desires and suffering."

"Speaking of desires...I've been seeing this woman in my dreams, and they won't go away..." Loki wouldn't elaborate more on the matter, for fear of embarrassing himself in front of the chaste monk.

"Sexual desires, I assume?"

Loki stiffened. "Not out of choice," he quickly replied. "I am not one to actively and frequently lust over women. But could it be that our suffering brings us closer together, so much so that I'm...unconsciously yearning for something more?"

'Rambling about strange dreams and a woman whose name he doesn't even know...He must think I'm as mad as a loon.'

But there was no disdain or amusement present in the monk's eyes. He gave Loki his serious, undivided attention.

"Perhaps," the monk finally replied. "That's human nature. I must ask one last question."

"Yes...?"

"...Is she beautiful?"

That took Loki off guard. For all the wise things the monk could've asked, Loki didn't expect that. Suddenly he felt uncomfortable.

"Y-yes, I suppose. Very much so, actually."

The monk's eyes twinkled at that. For some reason, Loki started to get a bad feeling about that look. "What are you smiling about?"

"My friend...you are in love."

They were such simple words. But Loki felt as if he was hit by something far more powerful than any kind of weapon or magic.

"Th-that's ridiculous..." he stammered. "I would never..."

"Just because I am a monk with no spouse or family of my own does not make me a stranger to love. I've seen it many times in the eyes and confessions of young lovers. Your case is a bit unusual, but I know it when I see it."

Much as Loki denied it, there was no way around the truth. He looked up at the monk with an imploring gaze that almost looked shy. "Should I tell her?"

"The choice is up to you. I could give as much counsel as you'd like. But in the end, whatever you decide to do is always from _your_ heart."

Ming returned to finishing his tea, leaving Loki deep in thought. Natasha Romanoff, of all people. The woman whom he had belittled, harassed and insulted...and called a mewling quim. Yet she was the same woman with whom they shared stories, conversations good times. And most of all, hardships. All his life, he had told countless lies. He used to take pride and joy in it, but this was different. Natasha deserved the truth.

Loki finished his cup and set it down resolutely. He flexed his aching legs and rose to leave. "Thank you so much, Ming. I appreciate it."

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Even as the monk asked, Loki could tell he knew the answer. The God of Mischief returned a bright gaze and a grin.

"I'll do it. I'll tell her."

* * *

Clint was dead tired.

After flying in from Singapore, all he wanted to do was hit the bed and sleep the day away. He decided to order coffee so he could rejuvenate himself. After getting his drink, Clint happened to see Tony and Bruce seated in the shady patio. He figured they were talking about science, as usual. He went over to them, anyway.

"Do you mind if I sit in with you guys?" he asked.

Tony couldn't speak for a second, then he managed to say, "Uh...sure. Didn't know you were back home. How was China?"

"Vietnam. I'm just going to say that the commies won't be back to bite in a long time." Clint flexed his neck and rubbed it with a groan. "I flew in a couple of hours ago. Jet lag's still bogging me down a little."

"Well, by all means...grab a seat and start chugging down that coffee."

A minute later, Captain Rogers arrived. He had bought himself some Frappuccino, topped with copious amounts of whipped cream.

Tony beamed. "Oh good. Everyone's here for my secret meeting. Well, nearly everyone..."

"What's this about, Mr. Stark?" Steve asked.

"Who do you think? It's the God of Mischief who switched from genocidal megalomaniac to Buddhist convert!"

Bruce chuckled. "I know he's been going to the temple a lot, but it's not because he converted to Buddhism. I understand where he's coming from. Back in India, I used to visit Hindu temples so I could ease my mind."

"I was just kidding about that, buddy. Don't worry. But do you notice that Loki's been acting kind of weird lately?"

Steve shrugged. "Depends on your definition of weird. Getting his hair cut, growing a beard and going to the gym seems pretty normal to me."

"He's being _weird_ by being _normal_. Don't you get it? I thought he despised everything about us and our world. Now he's actually trying to fit in."

"He had a blast at the library."

Everyone turned to see Darcy, who just walked out with a fresh cup of latte. "Sorry, couldn't help but overhear. Mind if I join the superhero gossip?"

Tony made a grand sweeping gesture. "Take a seat, girl. We were just getting started. Now...what about the library?"

Darcy took the offer and sipped at her coffee. "Well, I bumped into him a few days ago. He was knee deep in books. I caught him reading a lot of the classic Russian ones. I went out of my way and taught him how to check out his own books."

Tony stroked his goatee, pretending to look scholarly and deep in thought. "Oh yeah, I remember returning them. Russian books, huh? Interesting...Hey, remember what Fury had said that other night? Why did Loki make it his first priority to see Natasha?"

Clint's eyes narrowed. "He did what?"

"Loki had a raging fit when we had a party at the Stark tower," Steve quickly explained. "He had permission from Fury to try sorting things out. Then he visited Agent Romanoff to tell her before he would tell Fury."

Darcy frowned before sipping her latte. "Poor guy. I hope he's doing okay in S.H.I.E.L.D. detention."

Clint failed to suppress a smirk. "Oh, he's in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody now?"

"Fury can let you in on that later." Tony said.

Darcy glanced around. "Hey, where are Thor and Jane?"

"They don't know we're here," Tony simply replied. "I didn't invite them."

Steve frowned. "That's a little rude-"

"I have good reason not to tell them."

"So Tony...what's the verdict on your conspiracy theory?" Bruce asked.

The billionaire leaned forward with a gleeful smirk wide on his face. "Wanna know what I think? Loki...is in _love_...with Natasha!"

A dead, appalled silence reigned over the coffee table.

Darcy's eyes widened. "Oooh..." She tilted her head. "Who's Natasha?"

Then everyone jolted when Clint pounded the table with his fists. He said nothing. He abruptly rose, pushed back his chair and stormed off. His cup of coffee was left unattended. Tony scratched at his goatee.

"Huh, what's with him?"

Steve shook his head in despair. "I don't know. Maybe you hurt his feelings, genius."

Tony pretended to look impressed. "Wow Cap, I didn't know you were capable of sarcasm. Why is Legolas so upset?"

"Don't you know that Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff have been close partners for a long time? I'm surprised he didn't shoot you in the head after you said that."

"What would he shoot me with, anyway? His coffee stirrer?"

Steve put his face into his hands and said nothing more.

Tony pulled Clint's drink in and took a sip. "I guess he won't be coming back for this. Ooh, he likes it black and strong."

"You don't just take people's things." Steve said in exasperation. "How could you be so inconsiderate?"

"Quite the contrary, Captain. I am actually a very caring man. Leaving a cup of coffee cold is like leaving a puppy to die in the snow. You gotta bring it in and take care of it."

"That's hardly a plausible analogy-"

"I'm doing Cupid a favor."

"_You_ made him leave in the first place."

"He throws a hissy fit at some speculation I made. The guy needs to grow a backbone. I didn't even invite him anyway! He just shows up, and it's his fault he's in on the secret."

Steve tightened his fingers in the air to make a fist. "Sometimes I just want to settle things the old-fashioned way and punch you in the face."

"You two argue like a married couple."

Everyone turned to Bruce, who looked slightly nervous after his sudden remark. He smiled meekly. "Is that a plausible analogy?"

The scene at the table quickly dissolved into laughter. Darcy had been typing furiously on her phone, taking record of the entire conversation so she could post it on Tumblr. Even Steve relaxed and managed to chuckle. Tony looked relieved that he wouldn't be punched in the face after all.

He rose and clapped his hands together. "Meeting adjourned! Oh, and by the way, do _not_ tell Thor. That guy has a big mouth for more than just Pop Tarts."

Darcy nodded vigorously. "Note taken. I won't tell a soul."

Everyone left the coffee shop, mulling over Tony's wild revelation. They all had one thought running through their minds: 'Loki liking Natasha...That couldn't be true...could it?'

* * *

Natasha was starting to feel like sluggish and incompetent. She had been in bed for weeks and haven't had an ounce of decent exercise. It frustrated her to no end. The nurses kept insisting that she remained at rest. They knew that if they allowed her mobility and freedom, she would overexert herself regardless of the pain. Natasha obeyed orders, as always. But inwardly she fumed and rebelled. Back in the Soviet days, her superiors would've had her up and going in mere days. When Loki unexpectedly showed up in her room, she felt as if he was a godsend.

He looked a little flustered...perhaps even excited. He met her gaze, then the light in his eyes dimmed and he cleared his throat. She didn't miss the way he bit his lip.

'Is he nervous...?'

"Listen, Natasha...I've been wanting to tell you something..." He opened his mouth and closed it. One of his hands tightened to a fist and he muttered angrily to himself.

**"I'm sorry, Loki...but could we talk somewhere else? I was wondering if you could take me to the gym."**

Loki blinked. "You want to exercise?"

She made a small shrug. 'He's not acting like himself. I wonder what's up.'

He frowned as he glanced at her legs. "I don't think it's wise to put stress on your body. You need rest more than exercise."

But she insisted. **"Just lifting weights. Ten minutes at most."**

"As you wish...Here, let me carry you."

With gentle yet firm arms, Loki helped Natasha into the wheelchair. She felt almost weightless in his arms. He wheeled her down the hallway and up an elevator to reach the gym. Nostalgia glimmered in her eyes at the sight. Loki glanced at her.

"Which weights would you like?"

**"The lightest ones. Might as well start out safe."**

He gave her a pair, then he knelt down so he could be at her level. He watched her flex her arms with the weights in hand. They touched her shoulders down to her lap in smooth, repetitive arcs. Her hospitalization didn't drain as much of her strength as she had feared. She was well capable of lifting these weights, and she wasn't going to settle for anything less. Natasha handed the weights to Loki.

**"I'm ready for the heavier ones, please. The ones that are up by two. What were you going to tell me before we moved here?"**

Loki obliged and pulled out the pair that had been sitting two racks above the previous ones. As Natasha lifted the weights she studied Loki, waiting for him to continue on what he was going to say. His tongue darted out to lick his lips before he spoke.

"I have to be honest with you, Natasha...I didn't choose to come to Earth in the first place. After my defeat, I was taken to Asgard and sentenced to endure terrible punishment. I didn't know how many days or months had passed, since I was so blinded by pain and anger. Then Thor arrived to free me from my chains. He told me what had happened to you."

He made a little wry chuckle. "My suffering ended so that I could come in hopes of ending yours. Ironic, isn't it?" He fixated his stare on the slightly worn gym floor. "I feared coming here. I had paid the price of underestimating the power of the Avengers. I returned to this realm helpless and stripped of my magic. I had expected swift and violent retribution from your teammates as soon as they saw me. Most of all, I feared what _you_ would think. After all the wrongs I had done to you...I feared that Thor's idea to bring me here would be a horrible mistake."

Loki lifted his eyes to meet Natasha's. Considering his reputation as the God of Mischief and Lies, she saw how hard it must be for him to show open sincerity for a change. She stopped moving the weights. They rested on her lap and she remained still in her wheelchair.

"You did the unexpected," he went on. "You've opened yourself to me, and in doing so I've opened myself to you. What I'm trying to say is that I'm glad of being right here, right now. If it weren't for you, I'd still be locked up in Asgard, tortured by snake venom and cursing the man I once called Father until...well, the end of days, for all I know. I would be doomed to a life with no family, friends, acceptance and a home. A life with no life."

Natasha had the urge to reply. Loki waited patiently as he read her response. **"I know a little of how that feels. Russia, the United States...no matter where I went, or where I stayed, I could never call it a place of my own. For a long time I've accepted this. It was a part of my job...and part of who I am. Even my allegiance to SHIELD can't last forever. I wake up every day knowing it could be the last...for myself or my comrades. Lives and loyalties are finite."**

**"I lie and kill in the service of liars and killers...that much is true. An undeniable reality. When you had said that to me, you were talking about yourself too, weren't you?"  
**

Loki's eyes became heavy. "Yes," he said in a low voice. "We are one and the same."

**"That's what brings us closer. We've paid dearly for our crimes, and we've suffered together."**

Loki leaned forward, his voice dipping into an uncertain whisper. "But have we pulled through it all alongside each other?"

**"...I think so."**

A small smile broke through his somber expression like a tiny ray of sunlight through clouds. "You've changed me, Natasha. For the better. I've been lost and wandering all my life, searching for a home, a place where I could belong and be happy. But I don't have to look any further. Home is..." he turned red. "Wherever you are."

He looked slightly sheepish. "You've appeared in my dreams. I'm no longer kept awake by those horrible nightmares, because you were my source of comfort. It's like coming home. I...I can't stop thinking about you. You're a part of my life now...a part I didn't know I need, yet I can't imagine it any other way."

Heat sprang unbidden to her cheeks. Her heart fluttered wildly against her chest. Truth be told, she hadn't felt this way since her pre-teen years. That was a long, long time ago. She vividly remembered her wedding with Alexei Shostakov. Both were barely eighteen at the time, yet she couldn't forget the passion that burned vigorously between their gazes. It had intensified when they leaned forward to seal the union.

This time it was Loki who closed the gap between them.

Their lips touched. It was barely a touch, just a light brush. But Natasha felt a thrill that jolted and spread throughout her body like little forks of lightning. Loki pulled back. He wound a hand around her neck and planted a firm yet gentle kiss on her lips. She wanted to return the notion. Her lips parted to welcome him, but a soft moan of pain escaped her throat.

"Don't," he whispered. "It's all right."

She stilled and let Loki spread feathery kisses across her face. Her heart skipped a beat as he kissed along the lengths of her scars. His fingers, cool and soothing, traced her jawline. A shiver ran down her spine. She knew how powerful and capable those hands were; she thought for a moment how he could easily grab hold of her by the head, dig his icy fingers into her skin and rip open her scars again. They had been the same hands that had pounded against the glass cage, as he snarled death threats to her. But Loki was different now. She trusted him enough to accept the new man he was, and he knew that. Simply letting him kiss her was the ultimate sign of trust. She didn't need words to express that.

'So this was what he wanted to say...He loves me.'

The thought invoked pure bliss she hadn't felt in days. Gently and quietly, they broke apart. His eyes were bright, green and close, just inches away from her.

"I'm certain we've gone over ten minutes," he murmured with a little smile. His fingers brushed through her curls. She never knew he could be this soft, tender...and loving. Then he whispered in her ear, "I think I've found Nirvana."

Natasha wasn't sure of what he meant. All she knew was that at this time, in this moment, the two of them couldn't be any happier together.

* * *

Clint stormed off to the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, making a beeline for the medical ward. All fatigue and weariness was lost on the archer. He felt foolish for letting Tony's gossip get to him. Still...he was curious. Like a cat. Like everyone in the English-speaking world, he knew that curiosity kills the cat. But there was no turning back now. He had to see for himself...even if what laid ahead of him would change his life forever. Clint was shocked to find her room empty.

'Where could she have gone?'

But the instant he asked himself, he knew the answer. He rushed to the gym, feeling suspicion and dread in his gut. He hammered in the access code. The double doors slid open.

Just in time for him to see Loki and Natasha parting from a slow, intimate and nevertheless passionate kiss.

* * *

_Yup, it's official. They finally did it! Now Loki doesn't have to suffer from his sexual frustration. :3 But...what's Clint gonna do about it? 0-0_

_I felt like I've been leaving Natasha out. I tried to bring in her PoV more to balance out the recent Loki-centric plotline. It's BlackFrost, after all._

_Orodruin means "fiery mountain." It's another name for Mount Doom in Lord of the Rings. They'll play a bigger role much later...and by later I mean the sequel. ;) _

_I am aware of the whole Malekith deal being involved with Thor 2, and I'm so excited for it! I love how they're filming in Iceland. It's such a beautiful country, and what better place to film a Norse movie than the home of the Vikings? I heard that tipping at an Icelandic restaurant is considered an insult. I hope Tom keeps that in mind! I'm pretty sure he does...he's such a gentleman. Aaaagh so perfect. [Gum]_


	13. A Couple of Rams

**Chelsea Grin (13)**  
**A Couple of Rams**

**"True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen."**  
**~Francis Duc de La Rochefoucauld**

Loki's shock quickly shifted into apprehension. Natasha looked petrified, caught between surprise and lingering pleasure from their kiss.

Clint finally recovered to glare at Loki. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped.

Loki drew away from Natasha and rose to his full height. He put up his hands complacently. "I promise you...I have done nothing to harm-"

"Stay away from her! Who do you think you are?"

"A monster, no doubt. Am I correct?"

Clint charged. Loki made no move to step aside. He braced himself for the impact and the two men collided forcefully. They hurtled in the air and rolled all over the gym floor like fighting wolves. Pride made Loki act. He would never let himself be beaten to a pulp by a mortal. Even if that mortal was Natasha's best friend.

Loki rammed forward to give Clint a headbutt. Clint twisted his neck to avoid the blow. The archer assassin proved to be a better fighter than Loki expected. Clint held on gamely and brought up a knee into Loki's groin. Loki let out a sharp cry of anger and pain. He retaliated with a sucker punch to Clint's face. Clint's head snapped upwards. He immediately recovered. He grabbed Loki's wrist, slapped the other hand to his elbow and threw off his arm at an awkward, painful angle. Clint slammed Loki to the floor and pressed down with no relent. Loki emitted something between a growl and a hiss. Then Clint socked him right on the nose. Blood streamed, and rage bolstered Loki's strength. He pushed off the floor and threw Clint off balance. The archer landed hard, dazed for a second. It was all Loki needed.

Loki seized Clint's shirt and flung him across the gym. Clint crashed into the rack of weights, scattering them all around him. Undeterred, he grabbed the nearest weight. He staggered to his feet and held it aloft like a club. Loki saw pure hatred and killing intent in those eyes.

'Barton intends to finish this,' he thought grimly. 'Let's see him try.'

Loki slipped into a fighting stance as Clint broke into a mad dash.

Natasha knew that look. Clint became Hawkeye, with the eyes of a cold killer. An assassin who would show no mercy. She feared for both men. Who knew what could happen if they continued their fight? She had to end it. And typing on a digital notebook wasn't going to do the job.

"_No_!"

Loki and Clint froze, mere inches apart from each other.

"No," she repeated, this time weak and soft.

Her voice, until now, had been unused for weeks. When she had shouted, she felt as if something jabbed at her throat. Natasha put a hand to her chest and began to cough. Loki relaxed and went over to her. He rubbed her back, attempting to soothe her coughing fit.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. "I will not fight him anymore. You have nothing to worry about now."

Clint remained where he was. The energy to fight suddenly left him. He felt nothing but a broken heart and bitter rage. He turned and flung down the weight, its heavy metallic clang resounding through the gym. Loki and Natasha watched as he walked away with shoulders slumped.

Natasha tried calling out to him. "Clint, please..."

He acted as if he didn't hear her. When he left the gym and turned down the hallway, Natasha thought she saw a tear running down his cheek.

A wave of guilt washed over her. She had hurt her best friend at the expense of her own happiness. And it was her fault. Loki finally met her eyes. She didn't see any glimmer of smugness or triumph in them. Instead, he only looked concerned for her. He asked quietly, "Would you like to return to your room now?"

Despite feeling tired, Natasha shook her head. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'll stay here for a little longer. Don't worry about me...I can get back myself." She looked up at him with concern. "You need to take care of your nose."

He felt the blood on his lips as he cracked a wry smile. "Feels worse than I expected." Then his smile slowly faded. "I'm terribly sorry, Natasha. I started the fight. It was my fault for egging him on."

She sighed. "What's done is done."

With the help of his magic and without touching a thing, Loki cleaned up the mess he and Clint made. But he left the weights for Natasha.

His first instinct was to head for the temple. But fear of troubling Ming held him back. That, and coming with the proof that his bold move came with an embarrassingly painful price.

Instead, Loki retreated to his S.H.I.E.L.D. quarters and headed straight for the bathroom. He grabbed a towel, soaked it in water and pinched it firmly over his nose. Loki settled into a reclining chair. The blood pooling at the back of his throat felt uncomfortable. But doing that was better than letting it run down and stain his clothes. He made his hand holding the towel turn cold and blue. Nevertheless, his nose still throbbed. Loki suspected it must be broken.

'Damn him. His fist hurts as much as his arrow.'

Thankfully, the pain subsided in a matter of minutes. He felt fortunate to have superhuman durability and regeneration. Like with everything else, he took them for granted until he was in a bad fix.

Loki touched his nose gingerly. The pain was gone and the blood had dried. He set the bloody towel aside and rose from the chair. Changing out of his old clothes, he came across a wardrobe of various civilian attire S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would sometimes wear.

He should feel ashamed and guilty for fighting Clint. After all, he had been fortunate enough to kiss Natasha. Instead, the fact made Loki feel very elated and happy. Kissing her in that gym felt a hundred times better than he could ever imagine in his dreams.

Speaking of dreams, he was ready to get some rest. It had been quite an eventful day.

'I shouldn't go back to Natasha so soon,' he thought. 'She would need time to think and be alone.'

Sitting wearily on his bed, he began to close his eyes.

"Brother! You're back!"

Thor's booming voice badly startled Loki. The God of Mischief cursed and almost fell over in bed. He quickly schooled his features into unfazed indignance. Thor had burst into Loki's room without warning. The God of Mischief wondered why he hadn't noticed it before, considering that Thor couldn't keep still and quiet for long.

"Thor, what a surprise," he said dryly. "Have long have you been here?"

"Almost an hour now. I thought I could pay you a visit and keep you company. But alas, you were gone! So I simply waited, knowing you would return at some point." Thor's brow furrowed as he peered closer. "What happened to you?"

Loki cringed. He wished he could heal fast enough to completely get rid of his wound. Thor probably saw a big, ugly bruise left on his face. There was no way of avoiding it now. He would have to tell Thor everything. Loki blew out a loud, gusty sigh and held his gaze level with Thor's. How was he going to say this?

"Natasha and I...as you know, we've been seeing each other for quite some time since my stay on Midgard. As she recovered, we began to treat each other as friends instead of enemies. Eventually we've strengthened our bond and-"

"So she hit you?"

"Wh-what? No! Barton punched me in the nose after Natasha and I-"

His silver tongue turned to lead and failed him. He lowered his voice to a mutter and finished lamely: "After we kissed."

Thor's eyes grew as wide as plates. "Father's beard and Valhalla above...am I hearing things? Is this really true? You and Natasha...are courting?"

"Yes-er, I mean no, not really-"

"Loki, this is wonderful! My heart sings with resounding joy to hear this! My dear little brother, finally in love with a woman! And a lovely, fierce woman at that!"

If it wasn't for his nose, Loki would've slapped a hand to his face. Instead he barely suppressed an embarrassed groan.

"Thor, please! Do you want all the Nine Realms to hear your shameless declaration?"

"Why not? It's news worth spreading for everyone to hear. Mother and Father would want-"

Panic seized Loki. "No, they don't need to know!" He sat down with his shoulders slumped. "I'm not sure on what to do, that's why. I feel lost."

Thor sat in a chair across from Loki and the bed. "You and Agent Barton must have gotten into a fight."

"Unfortunately."

"Is he all right?"

"Of course he is." Loki snapped irritably. "I wouldn't dream of killing him."

"Do not take it the wrong way, brother. I'm concerned for all my comrades. But know that I'm on your side."

"If that's true, could you please keep the matter to yourself? At least, until Natasha and I sort out things between us?"

"You think I won't stay silent for long, don't you? I see the doubt in your eyes."

Loki couldn't help but shrug helplessly. He expected Thor to react with anger or indignance. Instead, Thor put a reassuring hand on Loki's shoulder.

"Yes, I must admit I am quite garrulous at times. However, I am anything but an oath-breaker. For your sake, brother, I will hold my tongue and keep my promise. Will you trust me, as I have trusted you with Natasha?"

Hearing that took Loki by surprise for a bit. That dispelled any doubts he had. He responded with a resolute nod. "We have a pact. Thank you, Thor."

The God of Thunder nodded and turned to leave.

Loki held up a finger. "Oh...one last thing."

Thor stopped at mid-stride. "Yes?"

"Now I understand why you're so attracted to Jane." A smirk tugged at the corner of Loki's lips. "Midgardian women are mysterious wonders to us, are they not?"

Thor laughed merrily. "Indeed. Father would wonder how the princes of Asgard managed to get themselves spellbound by mortals. I will see you soon, brother."

Thor's departure left Loki alone in his room. Loki's mood grew sour at the thought of Barton. It was not likely that the archer would keep the matter to himself. He scowled.

'Let him talk. As long as Natasha and I share a true, deep bond, I don't give a damn about any slander thrown my way."

* * *

Natasha wheeled herself back to her room. Thanks to automatic doors, getting back was relatively smooth. Along the way, she looked around the facility for any sign of Clint. Her efforts proved futile. She made it to her room with dismay.

'If there's one thing I know about him, it's that he would never give me the cold shoulder.'

She pulled up his number on her phone and texted him. "Clint, please let me talk with you. I'm in my room as usual."

She waited silently. And just when she thought the worst, that he wouldn't respond after all, her phone buzzed.

"Fine," his message read.

It was terse, and seemingly devoid of warmth. Usually he would respond with "okay" or even "got that, Nat." Natasha felt guilty for making him so upset. At the same time, the other part of her rejoiced from her kiss with Loki. Loving him seemed both impossible and real at once. She never thought that a former enemy would instill such strong emotional attachment in her. She had been trained all her life to put those thoughts aside. Now it was all she could think about.

Clint came within a few minutes. He looked reluctant to do so, though. His eyes had been fixed to the floor before he mustered the effort to gaze back at Natasha.

She tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind.

"Hi..." she finally said.

"...Hey."

Natasha sighed and sat up in her bed, so she wouldn't give the appearance of looking weak or ill. That time had come and gone. Now it was time not to talk as visitor and patient, but agent and agent. "After you being gone for so long, I haven't had the chance to properly greet you. How did your mission go?"

He made a wry shrug. "I came back alive. That explains a lot, doesn't it?"

"I'm glad you're not hurt," she replied sincerely. He made it sound as if she didn't want him back. But she would never think that way...not towards her best friend.

"Are you doing all right?" she asked. "You look very tired."

His voice was low and pinched with anger. "Don't worry about me. I'm worried about _you_. I've seen the way that guy's mind works." Clint folded his arms. "He's called the God of Mischief for a reason, Natasha. He lives for disorder and chaos. It's in his nature, and it's the only part of him he gladly accepts. He lies, cheats and steals to get what he wants."

"And I haven't?"

"You're different, Natasha. Way beyond his level. You've changed, but he never will. He can't help being a monster...that's something you can never change."

Natasha heard enough. "No, that is not true. There's nothing wrong with him. There's nothing wrong with _me_. I've seen for myself who he really is. And I accept him for it. I...I love him."

Clint visibly flinched. "Are you sure about that? Are you absolutely positive that these...feelings...are your own?"

"What are you trying to say, Clint?"

He huffed a sigh that bordered between frustration and despair. "What if you're under some kind of spell? Like...mind control?"

Now it was her turn to flinch. She felt very offended and hurt.

"My head feels perfectly clear. My feelings for him are real and from my heart."

"No, Nat. This isn't like you."

"You don't trust me." A part of her felt betrayed. The more she stared at Clint, the more her anger grew. "You were gone when Loki stayed by my side. And now you don't believe what I'm telling you."

His scowl burned her. "So it could've been different. If I had never gone on that damn mission, you would love me instead of...him."

She couldn't believe what he was saying now. "How could I know that? How could anyone? Speculations won't get us anywhere. You know that as well as I do." Her voice rose with every second. Before she knew it, she was practically yelling at him. "_You_ need to come to your senses, Clint. Of all the years I've known you as my best friend, I've never seen you being this rash and insensitive. What matters is the truth. And the truth is that I love Loki, and he loves me."

She coughed and tried to catch her breath. Clint looked concerned. He stepped forward.

"Natasha-"

"I'm all right." she snapped. Her reply came out more forceful and terse than she had intended. Clint reacted as if he got whipped. Her face softened and her rage subsided. "Clint...it's been months, almost half a year. I know the guilt's still there, and I'm not denying what Loki had done to you. But he has changed. Everyone else can attest to that. He has helped me in ways I wouldn't think possible. In doing so, he is healing his own scars. I've found that even a monster can feel true love."

"You really love him...don't you? You believe in him too."

All she could muster was a wordless nod. She held his gaze, waiting for his reaction. Finally, he rubbed the back of his head and returned his eyes to the floor.

"All right...That's the end of it. I don't want to upset you anymore."

"Promise me you won't kill Loki the next time you see him."

Clint sighed in resignation. "I promise."

He turned to leave, but she spoke up. "Clint. One question."

He stopped right at the door.

"Where did you go? You know...after you and Loki..."

"The nest, as usual."

"So you didn't tell anyone? Not even Director Fury?"

"...No. Not yet."

Natasha sighed inwardly with relief. So no one knew about her and Loki. She wasn't sure what everyone would think if the secret leaked out.

Clint stared at her pointedly. "You don't want me to tell anyone." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Please, if you can."

After a few seconds, Clint finally responded with a curt nod. He left Natasha to herself. She sat back in bed, deep in thought and struggling to make sense of the whole thing.

It was all so ironic. She had a natural gift for lying. Why was it so hard for her to prove she had been telling the truth? Natasha pushed her frustration aside. What mattered was that Clint ultimately believed her. Whether he took it well, she did not know. She had given it her best shot. She could only hope that they were still good friends. That was how Natasha saw it. She and Clint were close friends and co-workers; nothing more, nothing less. She could always rely on him with her darkest secrets, doubts and fears. Until now. Because someone else, from literally out of this world, came into her life and changed her forever.

She pulled up her phone and texted to a different number. She could only hope that he knew how to use a phone by now.

* * *

Fortunately, Loki's dreams were devoid of any darkness and terror as he slept. Unfortunately, it did not last.

"Brother, Natasha brings you a message!"

Thor's shout rudely jolted Loki from his nap. The God of Mischief remained in bed, his head pounding and ears ringing.

"Natasha brings you a message!" Thor exclaimed again.

"She does?" Loki groaned.

"Indeed!" Thor thrust the phone up to Loki's face. "Wonderful device, isn't it? I have mastered the art of delivering and receiving messages by merely pressing commands. Midgardians call it 'texting,' I think."

Loki pushed Thor's hand away. He slowly pulled himself up and rubbed at his bleary eyes.

"Where did you get that thing?"

"Jane was kind enough to buy it for me. She says I can just worry about how to use this device while she deals with something called the 'phone bill,' or some sort of contract."

Loki squinted at the glowing screen. The message read: "This is for Loki: you're free to see me. I've talked to Clint. He's gone."

Seeing that made his heart lift. His grogginess instantly left.

'So she attempted to negotiate with Barton...'

"You haven't told anyone yet, have you?"

"Of course not, brother! Your secret is still safe with me."

"...I must admit I'm impressed."

Thor pretended to look hurt. "You can rely on me, Loki. I would not want to upset you."

'Yes, you've already done that countless times before.' Loki made a dismissive gesture. "It was merely a jest. Don't feel offended."

Loki thanked Thor and bid him farewell. He teleported directly to Natasha's room. He greeted her with a smile.

"I received your message from Thor. Your talk with Barton went well, I assume?"

His smile faded when he saw that Natasha didn't look quite so happy. He noticed that she attempted to brush it off with a light shrug.

"I made him promise not to kill you. That's a start."

Loki chuckled. "Yes, I suppose."

Deep down, he envied Agent Barton. The hawk had a very close bond with the spider, and Loki could only hope that mere friendship held them together.

"You must think I am a madman to kiss you back there," he said.

Natasha looked a little meek, which was unusual. "I...I liked it very much. I haven't felt this way in a long time."

"It's a first for me." Then Loki felt heat rise in his cheeks. "Never in my life have I been so captivated by a woman...until now." He moved to her bedside and sat down. He lowered his eyes. "When I first came to Earth and saw you, I did not know what to make of it. Looking back now, it hurt me to see you suffering. I've grown up in a world where I couldn't sympathize with anyone. I was too busy resenting everyone who seemed to be better or stronger than me. Especially when I had been in pain...like that time those Dwarves had sealed my lips shut. I was an object of ridicule to most, and an object of pity to those I considered close to me. I've been insensitive to Thor in particular. I just could not understand whenever he was in pain, or going through some kind of misfortune. Worst of all, he had his friends to support him when I refused to reach out for him."

Loki sighed heavily. "Maybe that's why no one liked me in return. I must have seemed like such a cold, heartless being. I was starting to think the same thing. But you helped me change that. You proved me wrong. Seeing you was the first time I felt empathy...and compassion..."

His brow furrowed when he lifted his gaze to her. "I had deserved my punishment from the Dwarves. That, and paying for my crimes with snake venom in my eyes. I know that much. But you, Natasha...you did nothing to deserve such cruelty. How could a fellow human stoop so low to hurt you in this twisted, horrible way? How could he?"

He didn't realize he had been gripping her hand so tightly. Natasha touched his face with her other hand. When she brushed her fingers under his eyes, he realized too he was crying.

Loki put a hand gently over her cheek. He felt the scar beneath his palm. "I wish I could do something to help. I really do."

"You already have," she whispered.

Natasha leaned in to plant a soft kiss against his lips. When they broke apart, Loki wrapped his arms around her. She looked up at him.

"I didn't need magic or some kind of special power to make me feel better. Just being with you is enough."

He managed a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry about acting so somber..."

"It's all right. How else could I tell you why I love you?"

Loki hugged her closer and rested his chin on top of her head. They remained that way for several minutes, content in the quietness of the room and the company of each other. Then Loki pulled back slightly and met her eyes. "Natasha, I want to ask you something."

"Yes?"

His gaze bore mingled serious intent and nervousness. "Would you be my...um, lover? Or how do Midgardians say it...my girlfriend?"

The word sounded so strange coming from Loki. Natasha found it almost adorable. She surprised him with a kiss in return.

"Of course I will."

Happiness lit in his eyes like wild green fire. He quickly composed himself and his features reverted back to indifference. But it seemed to her like a feigned attempt, because he looked as if he could barely contain his joy.

He made as if to speak when a loud rap startled him and Natasha. Their heads snapped to the glass window. Loki recognized the two large ravens perching patiently outside. Frowning, he opened the windowsill by a crack. The birds dipped their heads at the former prince of Asgard and flew into the hospital room.

"What are you two doing here?" Loki snapped. "Of all the times you have to come in-"

"This evening is quite a suitable time," Muninn said.

"Yes. Quite a suitable time, this evening," Huginn said.

Natasha was not a woman to be taken easily by surprise. Still, she looked very intrigued, if not surprised, as she stared at the birds.

"The ravens...they talk...?"

Loki sighed and still looked flustered. "These two are Huginn and Muninn, ravens who serve Odin as scouts. Their wings carry them far and their eyes see much. I cannot say anything for their beaks, however. They often don't know how to keep them shut."

Muninn puffed up indignantly. "So says the Silvertongue, the God of Mischief and Lord of Lies."

Huginn buffeted the other bird with his wing. "Enough. We're not here to waste our time on petty insults."

Loki ignored them. "Huginn and Muninn, this is Nat-"

"We know her name."

"And we know what she is to you."

Loki and Natasha exchanged a quick, skeptical look. He bit his lip. "If you know that...then Odin has knowledge about the two of us."

Loki's heart sunk when the ravens nodded. 'Of course Odin would know. I had almost forgotten about these all-seeing dodos.'

"What is his opinion about us?" he asked with caution.

"We would like to say that the Allfather is very much pleased of this."

"Yes yes, this very much pleases the Allfather."

That surprised Loki. "It does? How so?"

"We do not hold the answers, I'm afraid," Huginn said.

"Only the Allfather knows," Muninn said. "All he had told us was that your bond to Natasha is part of a grand scheme we have yet to understand."

"A grand scheme? For a greater good, I assume. That is how Odin always operates." Loki sighed. "More questions and not enough answers. Is our bond that important?"

Huginn nodded. "Yes. With that said, we encourage you to continue your relationship."

Loki and Natasha exchanged a glance. Suddenly, he remembered something else when he turned back to the birds.

"How does Asgard fare? Is the realm well-protected? Had there been any foes or intruders invading?"

Muninn ruffled his feathers. "Have no fear. Asgard remains tranquil and quiet."

Huginn chimed in. "Everything from the commonfolk to the relics of the royal chamber are safe from harm."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that," Loki replied with relief. He trusted that Heimdall and Odin would continue their vigilant watch for enemies like Thanos.

He couldn't help but ask another question. "Has Odin thought of restoring more of my magic? Like energy projection and-"

"The Allfather sees no need for it now," Huginn said.

Loki's heart sunk. "What? Why?"

"In the words of a contemporary Midgardian proverb: make love, not war." Muninn's eyes twinkled in amusement.

Loki bit back a sigh of dismay and irritation. He should receive some kind of reward for his good behavior. He wondered how much longer it would take to regain Odin's full trust, as well as his magic. At least he seemed to earn the Allfather's trust in letting him be with a woman. Still, it irked him that the omniscient Odin seemed to know more about them than he knew about Natasha. He had already proved that he had known more about Loki than Loki knew himself. It was an unsettling thought.

"I'm afraid it is time for us to fly. Our message has been sent," Huginn said.

"We wish you well," Muninn said.

The ravens bowed to Loki, and even Natasha, before taking off. When Loki cleared his throat and managed to speak again, he sounded uncertain.

"So, um...before I had been so rudely interrupted, I was thinking...As soon as you're released from the hospital, we could commemorate that with spending the night together." Then he blushed and stammered. "No, not in _that_ way. Certainly not. What I meant was-"

"A date?"

He smiled at her sheepishly. "Yes, a date. Just the two of us having fun. Do you know when you are well enough to leave?"

"No," she admitted. "But I hope to get released as quickly as possible."

"I look forward to that day, whenever it may be."

The more he thought about it, the more he saw himself as an idiot. He had no idea, no plans whatsoever. He was a stranger on a strange planet, without a clue of what could be "fun" on Earth.

'At least we are together. That's a start.'

* * *

_I hope I didn't make Clint look like too much of a jerk. Poor guy...he's either the bad guy or the victim in BlackFrost fics._

_So...does anyone actually read the song lyrics or quotes at the beginning of each chapter? I'm just curious._

_Omfg. Apparently, some Thor 2 spoilers are out! I'm torn between sticking with my storyline (I've planned in advance) or tailoring it to go along with movie canon. Either way I'm uncontrollably excited! Are you? ;D [Gum]_


	14. Foolish Children

_I'm okay, guys! I'm just very busy. (I know, most used excuse ever. But it's true lol.) I'm preparing to die/study for finals. An anon reviewer (Millo) thought I died or something. That cracked me up. Another anon (x) sent me lots of great reviews. Thank you so much for the encouraging input!_

_Turns out that most people tell me they read the stuff in the beginning. That's good. :) [Gum]_

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (14)**  
**Foolish Children**

**"No more talk of darkness,**  
**Forget these wide-eyed fears**  
**I'm here, nothing can harm you**  
**my words will warm and calm you.**  
**Let me be your freedom,**  
**let daylight dry your tears.**  
**I'm here with you, beside you,**  
**to guard you and to guide you..."**  
**~Phantom of the Opera, "All I Ask of You"**

Clint walked down the hallway feeling dejected. If he was a dog, his ears would lie back and his tail would be tucked between his legs. But he was Hawkeye. And hawks could only brood in their nest, hunched over in silent anger.

His verbal fight with Natasha hurt even more than his physical fight with Loki. The pain still throbbing in his back and jaw was almost nothing compared to the sting of Natasha's declaration of love for Loki. He had swallowed his bitterness and didn't argue any further. But he still hated it.

'I told her that she could have loved me instead of him. What the hell was I thinking? I am such an idiot.'

A vibrating buzz from his phone snapped him from his thoughts. Fury was calling him.

"Agent Barton, are you busy?"

'Not with dodging bullets and staying alive. But I'm still busy trying to sort out shit in my head.'

Of course, that was not a response he said aloud to his superior. Clint said instead, "No, sir."

"Good. I'm afraid I have another assignment booked for you."

Clint held back a sigh. "What is it this time?"

"Nothing too strenuous, like your last mission. This time you'll be working closer to home. See me for further information and briefing."

"I'll be right there, Director Fury," he replied in a tight voice.

Clint pushed aside his tumultous thoughts as he veered away from the route to his nest. He walked resolutely through the facility, trying to steel his mind and suppress his emotions for the mission ahead of him. Whatever it was.

The complication of Loki and Natasha...he had to set it all aside. Otherwise it would cost him his life. But what was his life without loving Natasha? Love was the reason he let her live in the first place. In the face of S.H.I.E.L.D., Clint claimed she would be a valuable asset. Though he had disobeyed orders and therefore failed the mission, S.H.I.E.L.D. had shown no signs of regret over Natasha's new fate to this day.

'I loved her and let her live. But she lives to love someone else.'

A part of him wanted to scream that life wasn't fair. He had known it since he could remember. Since his rigorous training in the circus, he learned to accept the hard truth. But frankly, it never hit him this hard until now.

According to official records, S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Clint Barton had only failed a mission twice. He let Natasha live, then he let her get hurt.

Clint thought otherwise. To him, he had failed a third mission. And it felt like the worst failure yet.

* * *

Natasha was eager to fully recover as soon as possible. She started making more trips to the gym, pushing herself to transitioning from the wheelchair to walking on her own two feet. It depended on who visited her at the time, but Loki was usually there for support as she made rounds in the gym. There were a few times when Tony and Pepper supported her from both sides. Natasha was touched by the fact they took time out of their busy lives to help her. Steve acted as liaison for everything going on at S.H.I.E.L.D. Recently he informed her of another mission Clint had to take.

Clint had to monitor suspicious activity in Texas, infamous for its vast and hidden underworld of human trafficking, sex slavery...and most of all, information exchange. A team of less experienced agents accompanied him. It was their first mission out of New York. Natasha assumed he didn't like it. She knew Clint never had much patience and softness for rookies.

Considering the fact her absence made him a busy man, Natasha understood. Still, a part of her wished that he could stick around more often. Day by day, she slowly but steadily regained her strength. She remembered the first time she tried to walk, and her legs had been weak as that of an infant's. The bolts of pain shooting from her ankles didn't help either. Tough as nails, Natasha had gritted her teeth and never gave in to the pain. She was done sitting around and feeling sorry for herself.

She would never forget what Joffrey did to her back in Scotland. But forgetting was different than merely setting it aside for the better things in life, like her friendship with the Avengers. And most of all, her relationship with Loki. She treasured their company and support. She wouldn't know what to do without them.

* * *

As for Loki, his favorite things to do besides visiting Natasha were stopping by the temple or the library. He would stroll through the gardens feeling like the happiest man on Midgard. With the monks' permission, Loki picked flowers and left them in Natasha's room as a frequent little gift. He had some rented books handy whenever Natasha had to rest from her workouts. He read aloud some of her favorite Russian literature, including _Anna Karenina_ and _Crime and Punishment_. There were many characters with names Loki couldn't pronounce. Much as he tried, his blunders and Natasha's corrections were something they laughed over. Loki liked _War and Peace_ in particular, because one of the main characters was named Natasha.

He noticed that the day she would leave the hospital was quickly approaching with each day she grew stronger. Loki furiously wondered how he would take her out on a date. His past experience with JARVIS helped him know that one could look for knowledge by using a "search engine." He started out with computers from the New York public library. But they only looked up book titles. He inwardly prickled with embarrassment as he browsed the romance section. Not wanting to waste his time on unrealistic mush, he quickly gave up. Finally, Loki asked to borrow Thor's phone. He had a hard time typing. He couldn't even think of what to look for in the first place. The best thing he could come up with was typing "romantic customs in Midgard" on Google. Loki grew so frustrated he wanted to chuck the phone across the room. Options seemed to be spent until an unfavorable thought crossed his mind.

'Perhaps I should ask the Avengers for advice. Stark in particular, since he is in a relationship with Miss Potts.'

Thor noticed the scowl on Loki's face when he handed back the phone. "Could not find what you were looking for?"

Loki huffed an angry sigh. "Handling Midgardian technology is quite frustrating. Too many buttons and not enough answers."

"Fear not, brother. We shall consult the help of our friends."

"_Your_ friends, Thor. I...I was thinking the same thing. But I doubt they would want to..."

"They will not mind," Thor assured him.

'Yes, but I must tell them the truth before asking for a solution.'

Loki's nervousness grew as he approached the Stark Tower. He used to stay there a while ago, but now it seemed foreign and ominous in its daunting height and contemporary Midgardian architecture.

Upon seeing Loki and Thor enter his premises, Tony called everyone together on the first floor. Steve, Bruce and Pepper joined him.

"What's up, Asgardian bros?" Tony asked as he poured a cup of scotch for himself.

"Loki has something very important to tell you." Thor declared.

All eyes were on Loki. Everyone was silently attentative and curious. Tony downed his drink while keeping his eye on Loki. Loki bit his lip. He took in a deep, quiet breath, though his heart hammered against his chest.

Then he stared back at the Avengers squarely in the eyes. "Natasha and I are lovers."

Tony sprayed scotch out of his mouth and doubled over in laughter. "Man, you know how to tell a good joke."

Loki glared as heat rose to his cheeks.

"He speaks the truth," Thor said.

Pepper's face lit up. "Oh, I'm so happy for you two! I knew it would happen sooner or later."

Tony wiped at the counter, where he had unceremoniously spilled his drink. There was a strange, triumphant grin on his face. "You're serious? You guys are _actually_ together? I mean, I kind of guessed it, but I didn't think I'd be right. What did Cupid have to say about that?"

"Speaking of him, where is he?" Bruce asked. "We haven't seen him since we had coffee together."

"He knows," Loki replied. "I assume he went off sulking somewhere."

"Agent Barton is away on urgent business." Steve said.

Hearing that made Loki's heart lift.

The billionaire recovered and leaned forward in his seat. "So what are you gonna do about it, tiger? Got something in mind?"

Loki looked reluctant to reply. "Actually...I must admit I am at a loss. I plan to take Natasha on a date after she is discharged from the hospital. But Midgardian customs are still largely unfamiliar to me. I came here hoping you would offer some advice."

Bruce blushed a little. "Betty and I do a lot of research projects together, but we haven't found the time to go on a real romantic date." Then he looked ashamed. "Sorry, Loki...I can't help you there."

Tony turned around to face Bruce. "And you didn't tell me this? You could've come to me and I could suggest all sorts of fun stuff for you two-"

"Thanks but no thanks, Tony."

Steve spoke up this time. "Maybe I can help. I have a good idea for you two..."

* * *

The day finally came for Natasha to be officially released from the hospital.

She no longer wore a hospital gown, but civilian attire appropriate for the autumn weather. It just so happened that it was also Thanksgiving and her alleged birthday. The Avengers, Jane, Darcy, Pepper and Hogan threw a lavishing party to celebrate all of it. Loki was invited to join them at Tony's penthouse.

Once the food was brought out, and everyone was assembled and seated, Steve rapped on the table to get everyone's attention. "I'd like to open with a quick prayer. Tony, I hope you don't mind."

The billionaire waved it off. "No worries, Cap. Go for it."

Everyone sat silently while Steve folded his hands and said, "Lord, we thank you for this wonderful day. Thank you for the homemade food we're about to eat, and the friends at this table. We're thankful for Natasha, who just got out of the hospital in time for Thanksgiving, and a celebration of the day she was born."

Loki and Thor, who sat next to her, touched her shoulder. Everyone else smiled her way. Natasha smiled back, feeling moved by the sentiment.

Steve went on. "We're also thankful for Loki, for being here and having a good time with us. Amen."

Loki looked gratefully surprised. The group automatically replied "Amen" and started eating with enthusiasm. Natasha wished Clint was here for the party, but she didn't let that dampen her spirit. Everyone was buzzing with conversation, from commenting on the great food to discussing science, politics, common interests, and so on.

In a few hours, they finished the mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, stuffing and pumpkin pie. Only the huge turkey was too much to finish, so Thor ate whatever was left of it.

After the Thanksgiving dinner, Pepper presented a chocolate cake for Natasha. She smiled, and couldn't help but blush a little, when everyone sang "Happy Birthday" with gusto. When the time came for presents, Natasha got one from everyone except for Loki.

He looked to her with remorse. "I'm terribly sorry...I do not have anything for you..."

With a wide impish smile, Tony clapped Loki on the back. "Since Cupid isn't here, how about you give her a big kiss? Come on, it'll count!"

Thor joined in. "Show us that you truly and passionately love her, brother!"

Everyone gathered around the pair, shouting encouragement to kiss. Loki pulled Natasha into a long, passionate kiss. Cheers erupted when she threw her arms around him. They broke apart with wide grins on their faces.

"Happy birthday, Natasha," he whispered in her ear.

"Thank you," she murmured back.

"You two would make pretty babies!" Tony hooted.

Loki and Natasha pulled apart from their hug and looked a little embarrassed, while everyone else laughed.

Pepper looked to him reprovingly. "I think you've been having one too many drinks, mister."

The gathering ended with a toast to Natasha's health and a happy Thanksgiving. That last drink was like a nail on the coffin for Tony. He passed out, leaving Pepper to run things. Once the party was over, Natasha asked Loki to accompany her as they discussed further matters with Director Fury. They met with him in a meeting room.

"I'm glad to see you well again, Agent Romanoff," Fury said sincerely. "Is there something you wanted to discuss?"

Natasha and Loki exchanged a glance before she replied.

"Director, may I ask that you assign me the task of monitoring Loki? I would like to resume active duty in S.H.I.E.L.D. as soon as possible. Not into the field so soon, perhaps, but I want to do something. I understand that Loki is still under our supervision, but there will be no need for heavy security. He can move to my apartment now."

After a few seconds, Fury nodded. "If that's what you wish, I have no objections."

"Thank you, sir."

"I trust that he is in good hands. But for the sake of protocol, I will have help available in case of an emergency."

"Of course, Director. Thank you for your consideration."

When they left, Loki raised his eyebrows in amusement. "No handcuffs this time?"

Natasha reached out to hold his hand. "I don't think we'll need them."

Her apartment in New York wasn't far from the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. Natasha insisted on walking, and Loki continued to hold her hand on the way. She would never walk the streets of New York alone. But with Loki close by her side, she had nothing to fear. Normally he carried himself in a swift, regal pace fit for a former prince of Asgard. But today he walked slow and gently so Natasha could match strides with him.

Once they reached the complex, Natasha found her door and unlocked it. She beckoned Loki to come inside.

"Well, here we are. This is where I live, but I hardly stay here for long. My job calls for me to travel everywhere."

He followed her in and looked around. As he had expected, Natasha's apartment was simply and neatly furnished. The only decorations she had were a few Russian Orthodox icons hung in the living room and the kitchen. Loki knew she wasn't religious, but the artwork probably reminded her of home. He suspected that all her weapons and gadgets were cleverly stashed somewhere.

They situated themselves in her living room and shared a sofa.

"I have an extra bedroom where you can sleep." Natasha said. "You are free to use the kitchen and bathroom as you please. Sometime soon we'll go shopping to buy you civilian clothes."

"Thank you." Loki shifted uncomfortably. He wrung his hands as if he held an invisible cloth that needed to be dried. He needed to initiate the conversation somehow, but words failed him.

"Is something wrong, Loki?"

"Uh, no...I was going to ask you about tomorrow...about going out together."

He had planned to take her out tonight, but they had the Thanksgiving and birthday party instead. That meant tomorrow would be a whole day of just him and Natasha together, so Loki made no complaints about the change of plan.

He tried to remember what Steve had told him. "Captain Rogers had informed me of a fall festival at Manhattan Bay. It had been a tradition since the captain was a child. Are you interested?"

She nodded. "Sounds like fun. I...I've never been to a carnival."

"Me neither," Loki said with a smile.

They woke up early in the morning the next day. As promised, Natasha took Loki shopping at the New York mall. Knowing him, she picked out designer stores where he could find formal clothing. He preferred solid colors, mainly green and black, as he found the clothes with brands distasteful and gaudy. He didn't understand Midgardians' desire to wear clothes with someone else's name on it. He would not want to have "Abercrombie and Fitch" or "Hollister" emblazoned on his chest everywhere he went. On the other hand, Loki was very partial to scarves. Natasha told him it would look strange if he wore formal clothes all the time, so he picked out some simple yet decent polo shirts and jeans.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had supplied Natasha with enough money to buy everything Loki wanted. He was no careless spender, though. He had been choosy and was a gentleman to carry bags of his own purchases. Still, they were expensive. He returned to the apartment with Natasha, thinking of how much he had learned that day. Thor evidently had a lot of catching up to do when it came to Midgardian fashion.

During the evening, Loki and Natasha decided they would have dinner before heading to Manhattan Bay. They settled for a restaurant called the Flying Dutchman, known for serving the best shellfish dishes in Manhattan Bay. Because they were early, Loki and Natasha didn't have to deal with waiting for their seats.

It had been days since Natasha ate real food. Loki wanted to try something new and the best the restaurant had to offer, so he ordered a whole platter of boiled, seasoned crawfish. Natasha ordered stuffed crab, since she wasn't quite ready for hard food yet. As for drinks, Loki indulged himself with wine while Natasha had a glass of water.

His eyes twinkled when the food arrived. "I'm about to find out what makes these underwater insects so delicious to you Midgardians."

Natasha couldn't help but smile at his joke. "Here, I'll teach you how to peel off their shells. It's not that hard."

After one or two demonstrations, Loki learned quickly. Though Natasha told him to only eat the tails, Loki tried the head anyway. He took one crunchy bite, and with a grimace he didn't attempt to eat the rest.

"In Russia, crawfish would be eaten whole." Natasha said. "Except for the eyes and antennaes, that is."

He made a visible effort of swallowing before he replied, "I don't know how that's possible. It's like swallowing shards of glass!"

He removed the shells with quick, deft dexterity. As his fingers smoothly worked away, he continued making small talk with her.

"How does it feel to be out of the hospital?"

"Wonderful and refreshing. I feel like I've been finally set free."

"I'm very happy to see that you are getting better." Loki took a sip of cold wine to cool his burning mouth. "Your supervision over me is the only mission you have right now, I assume?"

"Yes. But if the Director wants me to do more, I'll be up for the job."

"I doubt it. About the Director asking you, I mean. I would think he wanted you to adjust before returning to your routine. He seems like a father figure to you."

That reminded him of Odin, and Loki said nothing more on the subject. It made him somewhat sad, since he had heard of Odin many times but never had the chance to speak with him after his punishment.

Out of kindness, Loki offered her some crawfish he had already peeled. Despite his slender build, Loki possessed a surprisingly large appetite. Natasha noticed this with mild surprise. Eventually he finished his entire plate; only a neat mound of heads and claws were left. He even had room for a large bowl of chocolate pudding. He ate it with such enthusiasm that he looked like a child eating his Halloween candy. Of course, he remembered his manners and offered her some pudding. Natasha declined, since it was his to enjoy.

When it was time for the carnival, Loki watched Natasha pay for their tickets at the front. "We're not doing roller coasters tonight, so I just spent money for playing the carnival games." she explained.

"Fair enough. What shall we do first?"

"Let's explore for a bit. I'm sure there's quite a few things you're curious about."

Loki took in all the sights with amusement and curiosity. He saw a massive contraption with children riding on horses skewered on poles. They giggled and smiled as the "horses" bobbed up and down. He didn't understand why they would enjoy such a thing. It lacked the energy and excitement of riding real horses. At their age, he had already started riding Draugur. Natasha said the machine was called a carousel. Considering all the cars in the city, Loki concluded that horses did not hold as much cultural and practical significance as they had during earlier times.

He saw people walking around and eating boxes of small buttery puffs or sugary clouds. Some children had what looked like war paint all over their faces. A giant wheel, almost towering to the sky, carried passengers in its compartments so they could get a breathtaking view. Other machines were smaller and much faster. People lined up to be vaulted in the air, tossed upside down or spun around for good fun.

Loki watched a column-like machine take a ring of people straight up, then straight down. He felt his own stomach drop at the sight. Natasha was right not to pay for riding these "roller coasters." He would never let her ride in her current condition. Even if both of them could go, he wasn't sure if he wanted to ride.

But Loki was no coward. He had been through the Bifrost many times, of all things. These roller coasters were cheap imitations, nothing compared to the powerful and exhilirating surge of the Rainbow Bridge. Just because he had taken the Bifrost didn't necessarily mean he enjoyed it.

Loki and Natasha meandered through the boardwalk's area of carnival games. Children and adults alike were having fun trying their luck. What caught Loki's eye was a tall beacon that flashed lights of many colors. Underneath it was a large button. Loki and Natasha watched a thick, burly man step forward, hammer in hand. He swung it down with a confident grunt. The light dipped, then fell from the midway point. The man's shoulders slumped in disappointment. His young son patted him in consolation, then his eyes lit up with joy when the man gave him his prize: a small stuffed animal.

"Is this a game to gauge strength?" Loki asked with interest.

"More or less." Natasha replied. "The harder you hit that button, the higher the light will go."

"I will give it a try."

The line wasn't very long. After the big man, not many people were willing to go next. Eventually it was the couple's turn. The young employee took Loki's ticket and sized up the slender God of Mischief. "Good luck, man. You'll need it."

Loki exchanged a secret smile with Natasha. "Oh, I'm sure I will do just fine."

He took up the hammer and weighed it carefully in his hands. He tried to imagine the way Thor would bring down Mjolnir, the way its big, mighty swing would kill many upon impact. Loki reeled back and slammed down the hammer. Not enough to smash the button into smithereens, but enough to do the job.

_Bam!_

Everyone, including Natasha, watched in awe as the light instantly ascended to the top. An applause rang out. Quite a few people happened to witness Loki's achievement. He turned, and with a little smile he bowed. He was able to choose any prize he wanted. Of course, he sought for the biggest and the best. Not for himself, but for Natasha.

He chose a giant stuffed teddy bear, roughly the size of Natasha's torso. She accepted it from Loki and gave him a grateful kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you. This means a lot to me." To his surprise, he caught a glimpse of wetness in her eyes. "I think I'll name him Mr. Boris," she said.

They continued their stroll through the boardwalk, with Natasha's arm wrapped around the bear and her other hand entwined with Loki's. They spent time at the plaza for a few minutes, watching a juggling performance involving fire and knives. Loki had seen his share of extravagant demonstrations in Asgard. But he was surprised to see such dexterity and skill coming from ordinary mortals. As he watched the flame-wreathed blades twirl and dance in the night, he was reminded of how often he tended to underestimate humanity. Of course, Loki had paid for that mistake with his defeat against the Avengers.

After the show ended, Natasha turned to him with a playful smile on her face. "Now it's time I owe you something. Let's head back to the games."

They stumbled upon a rifle shooting game in an indoor arcade. Even after weeks of being hospitalized, Natasha's precision was astounding. She handled the toy gun as if it were a sniper rifle.

Loki stared in awe at all the points she accumulated with every successful shot. "Wow...that was amazing."

She winked at him. "I didn't go to the hospital for my eyes."

Natasha returned the favor by letting him choose his prize. Of all the selections available, Loki liked the large, plush toy of a peculiar blue creature. He turned it over in his hands, noting the large ears and four arms.

"It's unlike anything I have seen among Midgardian wildlife. Is it a fictional animal, from one of those books or television shows?"

"Yes, he's called Stitch. He's a lot like you."

It had been a very fun night, but he could see that Natasha was getting tired. They left the amusement park to a quieter part of the carnival area.

There was just enough lamplight to illuminate the beauty of fall foliage. They rested on a gently sloping hill, facing the waters of Manhattan Bay. Beyond that, the lights of New York City gleamed faintly from a distance. It was the perfect view.

Natasha broke the silence. "This is probably what you haven't expected."

"What do you mean?" Loki asked softly.

"Well...you were a prince of Asgard. You must've grown up thinking that if you took romantic interest in a woman, there would be grand dinners, horse rides around the palace, gazing at the stars...that sort of thing. But here we are, going to a carnival, playing games, winning stuffed animals for each other-"

"And I've enjoyed every minute of it...every minute with you." Despite the darkness, Natasha could see the sincerity bright in his eyes. He squeezed her hand. "Someone once said to me...material things needed to be left behind to achieve a higher state of living. I understand now. I shouldn't care about what I have...it's _who_ I have, the one I love, that truly matters. I could be dirt poor for all I know, but I would not care when I have you."

Loki moved down to plant a kiss on her lips. He loved kissing her. It was just the two of them, wrapped in the dark quietness of night and the embrace of each other's arms. A soft moan escaped her as his tongue lapped over hers in slow, gentle strokes. Her fingers worked over the buttons of his shirt. She unfastened two or three of them. Not enough to completely rob him of his shirt, but enough to let her hands slip through and touch his bare chest.

Loki's skin felt as cool as the autumn air. She felt the strength in his hands as he firmly yet gently straddled her hips.

Natasha's breath hitched when he gently pinned her down to the grass. His lips nipped at her neck, making a soft, cool trail that sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine. Her fingers in his black hair, her head filled with his scent and her eyes to the stars bright in the night sky...it all felt so good.

She lowered her gaze to watch his lips hover over her collarbone. He crept closer and lower. And just when she thought he would go farther, Loki flashed her a teasing glance before reaching up to kiss her on the lips. A cool autumn breeze blew. With her scarf and collar partially removed, Natasha shivered from the cold. Loki sensed this and hugged her closer to him. She expected his skin to be just as cold, or colder. But to her surprise, he felt soothingly warm.

'Did his body temperature just change?' she asked herself.

As if he had read her mind, Loki smiled down at her. "One of the many magic tricks up my sleeve. Feeling better now?"

"Yes, thank you."

He nuzzled against the crook of her neck and sighed in content. "I am so in love with you, Natasha."

"Love is for children," she replied teasingly.

"Then I am a very foolish child."

"...So am I."

* * *

_The romance will continue next chapter! Yay! :)_

_I saw Anna Karenina the movie after reading it a few years ago (and recently reread it to get hyped for the movie)...Keira Knightley is sooo gorgeous and flawless! She made a great Anna. Jude Law was a great Karenin, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson was awesome as Vronsky. x.x And of course, the story was beautifully tragic. You might've guessed by now that I love sad stories._

_Comments, questions, concerns...feels? You know what to do. ;) [Gum]_


	15. What It Means To Be Human

**Chelsea Grin (15)**  
**What It Means To Be Human**

**"I can feel it in the way your blood and heart beats**  
**Or is it in the way your body moves?"**  
**~"Ten Speed (Of God's Blood and Burial)" by Coheed & Cambria**

No one knew that Loki and Natasha ever came and went. When they were ready to go home, Loki took Natasha's hand and they teleported under the cover of darkness. It was a strange experience for her, but she reckoned that Loki was used to it, since he did it so often. Teleporting was undeniably convenient. Otherwise, she would drop at her door from exhaustion.

Loki helped her slip the scarf from her neck. He unbuttoned his own coat, and set Stitch and Mr. Boris side by side on a couch, while Natasha went to the kitchen.

"I'll make hot chocolate," she offered. "Would you like some?"

Loki smiled. "Yes, that would be excellent for tonight."

A minute later, the couple curled up on the couch, sipping their hot chocolate in quiet content. Loki had used a spell to siphon the heat with a wave of his hand, to make it just warm enough and not too cool.

She rested her head between his neck and shoulder. He got a good look of how beautiful her red curls were.

"Natasha...? I'm curious...if you weren't an assassin, or an Avenger, what would you be?"

Finally she said quietly, "If I could lead a normal life, you mean? I...I would've been a dancer."

That intrigued him. He had never seen her dance before, but he wasn't surprised by the fact. She moved with an air of grace, whether she was walking or fighting with such strong legs.

"The Asgardian palace has a wonderfully large and ornate dance room," Loki said. "We always hold the most important celebrations there. Warrior commemorations, victory feasts, birthdays, weddings..." he trailed off and blushed at the last word. "And we regard the best dancers with great respect. One day I will take you to Asgard, and you could dance to your heart's content."

Her eyes lit up and she kissed him. "I would love that."

The kiss, combined with the hot chocolate, made Loki feel very warm and elated.

For Natasha, Loki's question invoked memories resurfacing from childhood obscurity. She did not cherish the dancing incorporated into her fighting style, but dancing for its own sake. Those were the rare moments she could let her guard down, and cast away all her worries as her body moved across the dance floor. What could it have been like? To join a prestigious troupe and dance Russian ballet until she grew too old and tired? To live and die in her homeland? To be free of the terrible Red Room experiments? She couldn't imagine that kind of life at all.

She should have been dead a long time ago, but her enhanced physiology stretched her lifespan beyond its natural limit. She was born on November 22, 1928. Yesterday marked her 84th birthday. She wasn't nearly as old as Captain Rogers. But unlike him, Natasha had seen and lived through many wars. No one would believe her if she told anyone, not that she was allowed anyway.

Her S.H.I.E.L.D. file covered this with a forged identity, but only Fury and Clint knew the truth. Clint liked to say how she had the eyes and mind of an old woman beneath her young face. He meant it as a complement. Natasha was experienced and mature well beyond her appearance. But there were times she wished she could trade that for a normal life, however short and happily ignorant it would be.

And deep down, despite the futility of it, Natasha always wanted to be a mother. Back in her Red Room days, she had accepted her condition without so much a shrug of her shoulder. It was something every trainee had to live with. The danger of unintentionally conceiving children was too great. Even having the intention would be a major hinderance to serving the country. Some of her earliest missions involved killing children, and she carried these out dutifully. The desire arose shortly after joining S.H.I.E.L.D. Discovering the corruption and inhumanity of the Red Room was the reason she left in the first place. As a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, she embarked on a few missions involving the rescue of children from scum like drug dealers and human traffickers. Each time, she harbored a fierce desire to protect these children. They deserved better than what she had to go through years ago. Natasha treasured their innocence. And she never hesitated to fight for their sake.

Would she make a good mother? She'll never know. The thought of it saddened her.

Loki noticed the slow transition of wistfulness to sorrow on her face. His arm tightened around her. "I'm sorry...I did not mean to upset you."

She shook her head. "It's not your fault. I've been thinking...how I could be a mother if I wanted to, or if I could."

"I see..." Loki said softly. He was shocked for a moment. Despite his curiosity, it would be rude to prod her for details and risk upsetting her even more. He assumed that the demands of her dangerous profession, and the works of sinister Midgardian technology, prevented her from the capability.

Then he felt as if he was seeing her in a new light. Here was a woman, with dreams, desires and sorrows like any human being. He loved that part of her, just as much as he loved the strong, controlled warrior side she often presented. The feel of her warmth, her petite frame, even the mere movement of her chest as she quietly breathed, struck him as something amazing.

Natasha was warm and living, not cold and dead. It took time and understanding for one to see that in her.

'She is completely human, yet she captivates me with a power stronger than any spell. She is truly a marvel.'

With a sudden rush of affection, Loki kissed her scarred cheek, starting at her cheekbone and making a soft trail down to her lips.

Natasha smiled when they broke apart. "You taste like chocolate," she said.

"You too," he replied.

She leaned forward to drop a playful kiss on the bridge of his nose. Then she put her cup down and touched her forehead. Her brow furrowed in pain.

"What's wrong, Natasha?" Loki asked.

"Just a headache," she mumbled. "Maybe it'll go away."

"We've had a long day. You should get a good night's rest."

She didn't object to that. Loki finished his hot chocolate and helped Natasha up. They left the living room together, with Loki's arm over her shoulder. She felt very warm; he hoped she wasn't feverish. Then she stopped to hug him.

"Thank you, Loki. I had a fun day."

He returned her embrace. "So did I. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

She nodded drowsily and stifled a yawn. "G'night."

Loki changed into pajamas he had recently bought. He slipped comfortably into bed and closed his eyes.

His transition from reality to the dream world was like being in heaven, only to have the clouds give way below him. Loki found himself in the dark. It closed on him and seemed to suffocate him. He felt as if his senses were deprived. He wished he knew what was going on.

Up ahead, Loki saw a pair of lights. Then four, then six. When they came closer, a chill crept up his spine. The lights were eyes.

A wolf materialized from the darkness. A bear followed behind, and a crow flew overhead. Loki couldn't move. He stood there, paralyzed and filled with dread.

'I have seen them before.'

The three animals circled him slowly. The wolf and bear prowled without a sound. As if closing in for the kill. The crow circled over his head like a vulture claiming its carrion soon to be devoured.

Loki desperately wanted to run away. But he was caught in their trap, almost mesmerized by their eerie movements.

The wolf, bear and crow morphed into one being, a humanoid figure all too dreadfully familiar. Loki wanted to look away, but he couldn't. The instant the animals combined, the darkness faded to reveal the bedroom Loki occupied.

His heart almost stopped. 'No, it can't be...'

Salastarr bared his blood-red teeth in a triumphant grin. "Found you, trickster."

He stretched out a pale, blue hand to seize Loki's throat.

It wasn't his scream that woke him up. Loki lurched forward in bed, violently trembling and with a hand clutched tightly over his chest. Natasha cried out in pain from the next room. His eyes widened.

'Natasha!'

Disregarding his own wellbeing, Loki swiftly ran to her room. The bed sheets were thrown aside. Natasha tossed and turned in the mattress. Her face was pale and contorted, as if under the throes of torture.

"It burns! Loki, help me!"

It pained him to see her in such vulnerable agony. He was at her side in an instant. He wrapped his arms firmly around her. Perspiration coated her entire body. Her undershirt was limp and soaked under his hands. For once, he was grateful for his Frost Giant skin. From head to toe, his body became cold and blue. One hand caressed her head while the other stroked her back. Her trembling subsided a bit.

"Fire...fire everywhere," she whispered. "Children and the elderly burning...the hospital too. It was me. I set them on fire. Someone laughed...as I burned with them..."

"Shh...it'll be all right, my love. I'm here, darling..."

Fiery remnants of a horrible dream...not unlike his own experience tonight.

He knew of the hospital fire from the time he had possessed Barton, and coaxed the information out of the agent. He didn't forget the barely concealed horror on Natasha's face when he had cruelly reminded her of crimes she had committed. A pang of guilt struck his heart.

'I'm responsible for her suffering. What can I do to undo it?'

Loki wondered about the laughter. He didn't remember it being part of Barton's story.

Natasha tilted her head to gaze at his pale face. "You don't look well either," she murmured.

Loki stiffened. He was loath to tell her about his nightmare. It seemed so terribly real. He thought that he had abandoned those dreams for good. Tonight, he was gravely mistaken. Even the presence of Natasha could not make his fear and despair go away.

"Loki? Is there something you're not telling me?"

She sounded curiously concerned, not angry. Loki was about to speak when her phone rang. Natasha reached across the nightstand, composed herself and promptly answered it.

"Natasha Romanoff. Who is this?"

Both of them heard over the phone: "Hello Tasha. It's been a while."

Her eyes flew wide open. "...Coulson?" She was at a loss for words, which did not happen often. "Wh-what? How...?"

"No time for questions. Save the sentiment for later. If Loki's with you, bring him too. Meet me in the NASA lab. This is a Level 5."

Natasha quickly got up and went into her closet. With deftness and efficiency gained from experience, she changed into her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform with little effort. The weariness seemed to leave her as she resumed her usual air of control.

"What is a Level 5?" Loki inquired.

"An emergency. Hurry and change; we're needed there urgently."

He simply closed his eyes. With his magic, he changed into a suit without moving a muscle.

Natasha couldn't help but make an amused smirk when she watched him. "That works too."

He offered his arm and she took it. "You know where we're going?" she asked.

Loki nodded. It was the very same place where he had arrived on Earth. In a matter of seconds they went from Natasha's apartment to the NASA lab.

All the Avengers were assembled. Tony came in with his Iron Man suit. Bruce stood next to him. Steve had his shield close to his side, and Thor had Mjolnir tight in his fist. Even Clint was there. Natasha saw Director Fury and Maria Hill too. Who she saw next filled her with mixed awe and joy. There was no doubt about it: Coulson was alive. He leaned against crutches and stooped a little. Otherwise, he looked well.

Coulson stepped forward from his place next to Steve. "Good. Everyone's here. Now, for the situation at hand..."

He gestured to the center of the room. Loki's scepter, supported by an apparatus, emanated a bright unstable glow.

"It started acting up approximately 3 hours ago. I brought Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner in here first so they could investigate."

Loki and Natasha exchanged a glance. 3 hours ago, they were spending their evening at Manhattan Bay.

"It's reacting to something, that's for sure," Tony said. "But to what, we don't know."

Bruce spoke up next. "The scepter's emitting radiation; thankfully it's coming off in trace amounts, barely enough to cause damage."

The light from the scepter grew brighter and stronger. Energy rippled and pulsed as it began to form a large sphere.

Bruce looked at it with alarm. "But at the rate it's going, things could get ugly if something isn't done soon."

Tony pointed at Loki. "Hey, the scepter used to be yours, right? You did good to call him in here, Phil. Maybe he can shut it off."

Loki frowned. "Technically it does not belong to me. I don't know if I can-"

"It's worth a try. Bruce and I can't even touch the darn thing."

"But you still think that touching the scepter will make it stop reacting?" Steve asked.

Bruce nodded. "It seems like the only way. We can't use electricity to turn it off. It doesn't even have an on or off switch in the first place."

"Perhaps one who has mastery over the scepter also has the power to stop it upon contact," Thor said.

Tony looked impressed. "L'Oreal's got the idea. So it's obvious that Loki has to get up there and touch it."

"But Loki isn't the master anymore," Clint said in a calm yet sure voice. "Natasha should go."

"Why her?" Loki asked sharply.

Natasha caught on. "Because I was the last one to hold the scepter. I used it to close the portal."

Now Loki remembered. Natasha had the scepter in her hands as she coolly stared down at the defeated God of Mischief. That seemed like ages ago.

Loki steeled himself. "All right. We'll go in together." He looked uncertainly at the strong waves of energy. "There's no way I'm letting you go in alone."

Natasha nodded in determination. He held her firmly by the waist. Together they walked through the surge of energy, slowly and steadily. Everyone held their breath. Loki and Natasha had to lean forward and plant their feet apart, as if they were enduring a gale of wind. Loki stretched out his hand and grabbed the scepter. Natasha followed suit. And the energy instantly dissipated. The couple held the scepter together, looking dazed and relieved.

Just when everyone thought things had gone quiet and settled, Loki felt some unknown and terrible force grab hold of him. He recognized this sensation. He felt the same way during that party at Stark tower, when he had attacked Thor.

Natasha backed away, watching in wide-eyed fear as Loki convulsed. A thin blue film formed over his eyes. She knew that look. So did everyone else. His skin turned blue, but not quite the shade Natasha was familiar with. Her heart clenched when she saw his teeth turn blood-red.

Thor made to approach him, but Steve held him back. "What is this wicked sorcery?" the God of Thunder demanded.

Loki was in panic. His body was not his own. He felt as if his voice and mind were pushed aside for the intruder to control the rest.

"Salastarr. How did you find me?" Loki's voice was mingled with anger and fear.

The Orodruin cackled through Loki's mouth. "It seems that you have an unusually strong bond with that woman." Loki felt himself gesturing to Natasha, though it was Salastarr's action. "The same woman who last held the scepter. Your capacity for love became your undoing. I've located you using the connection between the woman and the scepter...and finally, her connection to _you_."

Natasha's face was one of worry. She reached out to him hesitantly. "Loki, what-?"

Suddenly her body was seized by a malevolent, unseen force. She went rigid and let out a strangled cry. Then fire erupted out of nowhere and surrounded her.

Loki's stomach twisted in horror. "Natasha!" His shout was lost amid Salastarr's laughter.

The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents gaped. Even Fury looked shocked. He and Maria aimed their revolvers at Natasha, cautious but unsure of what to do.

Flames of all colors, orange, yellow, and blue, engulfed her body and lanced out like fiery snakes. Her eyes turned completely black, devoid of color and soul. Blood trickled from her nose and mouth as her features contorted beyond human proportions. A feral grin stretched from ear to ear. The movement looked forced, as if someone unseen was cruelly pulling at Natasha's face. Her wounds reopened and blood dripped down her chin. Her lips pulled back to reveal fangs and a grossly elongated tongue.

"Ahahahahaa! You mortals look even more pathetic than I could imagine!"

The voice out of Natasha's mouth was as fiery and sinister as the surrounding flames. It was low, harsh and undeniably masculine. Whoever speaking was _not_ Natasha Romanoff. She looked like a demon out of hell.

"Identity yourself!" Fury demanded.

"You dare address me in that manner, you insolent one-eyed _worm_? I am Surtur, the Lord of No Life. The King of Muspelheim!"

Only Thor and Loki recognized the name. Both felt their hearts seized with pure terror and dread.

Loki's accusing voice momentarily took over. "It was you. You were the one tormenting Natasha in her dream."

Natasha-Surtur grinned maliciously. "I do not have the level of skill Salastarr has when it comes to possession. But getting a hold of this weak female was easy enough."

Loki cursed. Clint was livid, but Steve held him back with a firm grip on the shoulder.

Loki lowered himself to his knees and bowed before Natasha. But everyone knew it was actually Salastarr kneeling before Surtur.

"Lord of No Life, would you like to deliver the message yourself?"

"The pleasure is all mine, Orodruin." Natasha-Surtur turned to the Avengers and fixed them with a burning, coal-black gaze. "Salastarr came to me personally on behalf of his master, Thanos. He asked for my service, with a very interesting proposal. We mean you no harm...yet. We are here on a simple request."

"Simple? I doubt it." Fury retorted.

"I will make this short and straightforward, since you seem to demand it so badly." A sinister gleam betrayed the blackness of Natasha-Surtur's eyes. "Turn over the trickster, and your little planet will be spared."

Loki went numb with shock. He saw everyone else mirror his reaction as all eyes went to him.

"It has come to my attention that the God of Mischief is not a welcome sight, nor a welcome presence, on Midgard."

"He had committed terrible crimes against your world," Loki-Salastarr spat. "He murdered and slaughtered your people. He reveled in the blood he had spilled. Surely you demand retribution."

Natasha-Surtur extended a clawed hand interlaced with flames. "Give him to us, and relieve yourselves of the burden you carry."

Loki-Salastarr held up a pair of fingers. "2 days. That is how long we will let you make a decision. Consider carefully. Whether your world faces salvation or destruction is up to you."

Natasha-Surtur's tongue flicked like a grotesque serpent as he leered. The room reverberated with his explosive laughter. Then Surtur departed violently, in a burst of blazing fire. Salastarr followed suit with a billowing purple smoke. The limp bodies of Loki and Natasha collapsed to the floor.


	16. A Call to Arms

_Here's the December 21st special! Next chapter will come out on Christmas Day. (I'm updating a lot sooner than usual.) [Gum]_

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (16)**  
**A Call to Arms**

**"There is a way to be good again."**  
**~The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini**

Loki was free. His eyes flew open. He felt dazed and petrified. Finally he took in a shaky breath and trembled. He staggered to his feet and nearly collapsed. Thor rushed over to support him, but Loki waved him away.

"Natasha!" he exclaimed. "Is she all right?"

Clint held her unconscious body in his arms. She didn't appear burned or distorted. Her scars weren't even reopened. Despite her pale and flushed out skin, Natasha was otherwise unharmed.

"I swear, she looked even worse a few seconds ago," Tony remarked.

"It was an illusion," Loki said. "Surtur and Salastarr merely acted and spoke through us by possession. We were vessels to them, nothing more."

He laid a hand over her forehead. She felt hot and feverish. Her black catsuit clung to her skin like wet paper. As her eyes fluttered open, Loki was relieved to see that they returned to the familiar, beautiful shade of blue-green. She groaned and stirred in Clint's arms.

"Am I...back...?"

"Yeah. Thank God," Clint replied. "You're not hurt in any way, are you?"

She weakly shook her head and trembled. "Just hot...and tired..."

Loki was fuming. Not over himself, but over how Natasha had been so cruelly used.

Tony frowned. "Why was the scepter acting up in the first place? Does the Salastarr guy have something to do with it?"

"Perhaps. It's a way of confirmation. Ultimately, it was a trap." Loki narrowed his eyes. "And a diabolically clever one at that. If we left the scepter untouched, its energy would have engulfed this room and destroy the entire facility."

"Like what happened last time," Clint remarked mildly.

Loki nodded. Though he didn't deny it, he also didn't like Clint's tone. "On the other hand...when Natasha and I touched the scepter, Salastarr knew for certain that I had been hiding in Midgard. Now he has Surtur threatening to destroy this realm." He added grimly: "Whether the scepter gets touched or not does not matter. Both choices lead to inevitable destruction."

"That sneaky son of a bitch," Tony remarked. "Either way, we get the short end of the stick."

Thor turned to Coulson. "Son of Coul, if I may assume, has your involvement with the scepter kept us from being aware of your presence all this time?"

"Correct. I had been guarding the scepter and monitoring it for any suspicious activity. The new job kept me low and covered. I could do something productive and be safe at once."

"I do not understand..." Thor frowned. "I saw it with my own eyes. A direct thrust of the scepter into a mortal such as yourself...you should have died."

"To be honest, I thought so too. Turns out I wasn't ready to die yet. I woke up in the hospital, half drugged and cramped in the intensive care unit. The first thing I heard was the Director telling me about what he did with my vintage cards." He cracked a wry grin. "Needless to say, I wasn't very happy. But if it had to be done for the greater good, then I wouldn't complain." Coulson gingerly patted his stomach. "I'm no Captain America. But the wound's healing pretty well."

Tony gave Loki a bright and friendly smile. "Looks like you didn't kill Phil after all, Rock of Ages. You're good in my book."

"But that still does not excuse the atrocity I've committed against this good man." Loki looked to the agent sheepishly. "I'm sorry...for what I had done to you..."

Guilt gnawed at him. But Coulson dismissed it with a light smile. "The team needed a push."

Loki took it that Coulson forgave him. He managed a weak smile in return.

"It's good to know you're back, Agent Coulson," Natasha replied sincerely. "We missed you."

"Same. I heard about Scotland." Coulson put a hand on her shoulder. "I was worried sick about you. But I had to obey orders. I couldn't expose myself no matter what, and I had to continue monitoring the scepter. I had my doubts too, when I heard that Loki came back to Earth. But it's good to see you two get along so well."

"I hate to interrupt...but there's still that problem of Surtur coming here to destroy us," Clint remarked.

Loki clenched his jaw. "I will turn myself in. Better to do that than endanger the entire planet."

"Why? Can't we team up to beat this guy?"

Loki's glare bored into Tony. "Surtur is certainly not one to be trifled with."

"Care to explain exactly who he is? Because he sure didn't."

Panic made Loki's voice harsh. "Are you Midgardians really that ignorant to the worlds beyond your own? Muspelheim is a living hell. Fire Giants only live to burn and consume, plunder and destroy. Muspelheim is not a true realm, nor are the Fire Giants a true people. Surtur is their supreme ruler, the strongest and tallest of his monstrous brethren. This is no time to play hero. None of you, not even the Avengers assembled, would stand a chance against him. I..."

He held his gaze with Natasha. "If I must throw my life away to save all of yours, then I will do it."

He glanced next at Clint. The archer coolly gazed back at him. Loki's heart felt as heavy as solid lead in his chest. "Some of you will be glad to see me go. I hold nothing against your judgment if you feel that way. I am a murderer, a liar and a traitor. I think that is the reason why Mistress Death wants me so badly. If it is true, then I deserve this fate."

Everyone was silent for a few seconds. They exchanged glances and nodded in agreement. Loki didn't know what transpired between them. Though he made the offer, he feared their response. Was he really ready to hand himself over to be gleefully killed, or possibly tortured, by Thanos?

Finally Tony spoke up. "That's nice and all. But sorry...we can't let you do that."

Loki was surprised. "You're not turning me in? Do you understand what you have gotten yourselves into? Why are you doing this?"

"Because you are my brother," Thor said.

"Because you are one of us," Steve said.

"Because I love you," Natasha said.

Loki was at a loss for words. For the first time in his life, he felt a true sense of belonging. He simply stared back at the Avengers, feeling emotion overwhelm him and make his throat swell.

"My friends...thank you. But if you insist on having me stay...then I'm afraid I must still object to your plan of an assembled attack. I won't let you join me in the fight. I will challenge Surtur alone."

Everyone stared in horrified disbelief. Thor and Natasha looked particularly upset.

"That's suicide!" Tony exclaimed.

"Hear me out. I do not mean to brag, but I understand these Fire Giants better than any of you. Any flames they project are an extension of their own bodies. They gets their power from the energy core in their chests, which links them to Muspelheim and functions as a power source. And just like all things in the universe, the Fire Giants' energy is not infinite."

"That sounds very similar to the Casket of Ancient Winters to the Frost Giants," Thor said.

Loki nodded. "Exactly. When Fire Giants fight away from their realm, they draw their power from the heat and fire of Muspelheim's volcanoes. Such is the physiology of all Fire Giants. Surtur is no exception to this."

"He's not bringing reinforcements, is he?" Clint asked warily.

"Knowing him, Surtur will come as a one-man army," Loki said. "He is too proud. He takes pleasure in destroying things, just for the sake of destruction. Salastarr knew that too, I think. Surtur would never refuse such a golden opportunity. He plans to bring down Midgard in one fell swoop."

Tony's suit whirred as he threw up his hands helplessly. "All right then, you'll be the one to take on the big guy. Then what the hell are the rest of us gonna do?"

"We have 2 days. You can take advantage of this precious time by evacuating civilians before Surtur comes to attack."

Steve nodded in agreement. "An excellent idea. But there's no time to leave by train or car. We'll need assistance from the military."

Tony looked resolute. "I'm with you, Captain. I can call Rhodey and ask for help from the Air Force."

"We'll need the Army, Navy and Marines as well. This will be no small feat."

"We need to get people as inland as possible," Bruce said firmly. "This is a being who uses fire. So he might rough up the Earth's crust, bring up magma and level the entire city, for all we know. We can _not_ have people sheltered underground."

"How far inland are you thinking?" Clint asked.

Bruce and Steve said at the same time: "Canada."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Really, Stars and Stripes? I didn't expect that coming out of you."

"I may not be a scientific genius like you or Dr. Banner. But common sense tells me that Canada is a cold yet safe place, away from the crossfire. It's not terribly far from the East Coast. Just across New York and over Lake Ontario."

Bruce nodded. "The snow and permafrost would serve as a 'litho-shield' against the heat. At least, that's what we hope."

Steve folded his arms. "Geography aside, the military will have no problem with the transport...that is, if we can get both governments to recognize this as a critical emergency."

"What if they do not?" Thor asked.

"They will," Fury assured them. "Security cameras monitor this area at all times. Footage of what happened to Loki and Agent Romanoff will be crucial. It's the evidence we need to get the authorities to act."

Then he gestured to the scepter. "Would you like that returned to you, Loki?"

The God of Mischief took a step back. "No, I cannot take it. I will not risk using its power again. True, the scepter is capable of immense magical strength. But it comes at the cost of my own energy. You've seen it for yourself; the scepter had corrupted and drained me. I will have to refuse your offer."

"What will you do, then?" Thor asked. You don't plan to fight Surtur with the little magic you have, do you?"

"Of course not! That is why I must speak with the Allfather. Never mind Huginn and Muninn. I need to see Odin personally."

Just when Loki finished speaking, a powerful column of light descended from above. Everyone backed away in surprise as Odin Allfather materialized before them. Not Odin himself, but merely a projection. Loki knew that the Allfather was capable of advanced telepathy when the situation called for it. Odin had not changed since Loki last saw him.

The other Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stared in awe. They seemed to get a hint of who he was, and they bowed tentatively.

Odin acknowledged them with a nod of his head. "These must be the Midgardian comrades you speak so highly of, Thor."

His single eye rested on Natasha last. She felt the weight of his serious gaze. She didn't forget that the king of Asgard knew how important she was to his adopted son.

Thor stepped up. "Father, you knew this beforehand?"

The semi-transparent figure of Odin nodded gravely. "There has been talk all over Asgard that Muspelheim has risen from its dormant slumber. The Vanir in Vanaheim, and even the Light Elves in Aflheim, have also grown restless and uneasy. I will not deny that Surtur is an enemy to be reckoned."

The Allfather turned to Loki. "But fear not. I am on your side. You have my trust, so I will restore you to your full power."

Loki's heart soared.

"Come forth, Loki. I can do this even when I appear as a projection to you."

Odin placed his hands on Loki's forehead and chest. Loki almost reeled back from the surge of energy. Nothing felt quite as invigorating as the fullness of his magic rush through his body. He felt whole again, as if reuniting with an essential part of him he had been long separated from.

"You can now perform any magic at your knowledge and disposal," Odin said. "Including the Casket of Ancient Winters that has become a part of you."

"The Casket...yes..."

He almost forgot. It had been dormant in his body the whole time. And now that his magic was fully restored...

"The fire of Muspelheim has been reignited, just as the ice of Jotunheim shall also rise to fight it."

Odin's words gave Loki a sense of duty, a heavy weight upon his shoulders. He knew what he had to do. It was his destiny. But whether to prevail or die, he was not certain.

The projection of Odin began to fade away. But not before giving Loki a look of fatherly concern. He did not know how to react to that. He stared up at where the column of light ascended and disappeared. He felt hope stir in his chest despite the bleak future.

"Got all your magic back, huh? What kind of tricks can you do?" Tony asked.

Loki felt a twinge of annoyance. "I do not perform tricks."

Thor swiftly defended his adopted brother. "Loki is a very accomplished sorceror. He is the best in Asgard, and has studied much in a variety of magical arts. I have faith that he has what it takes to fight Surtur."

Director Fury spoke up. "I think it's best that we make our move now. Like Loki said, we don't have much time. Coulson and I will deal with the government. When you hear word from us, you will assist the military with evacuating everyone. Until then, pack up and get ready to leave."

"Yes sir!" the Avengers replied.

Tony left to tell Pepper and get his tower hunkered down for the storm. Thor went to alert Jane and Darcy, who were still in New York. Bruce left to inform Betty and his colleagues, hoping that they would abandon their work and labs to flee to Canada.

Only Natasha remained with Loki. Clint prompted her to follow him, but she shook her head.

"I'll be with you shortly. Just give me a few minutes."

He could tell she was upset, and wanted to talk privately with Loki. He made a resigned nod and followed the rest of the Avengers out.

Natasha turned to face Loki. He seemed so small and alone, to take on this huge challenge. She sighed. "I wish I could do something to help..."

"But you are, Natasha. You will get everyone to safety and-"

"No. I want to help _you_."

He rested his hand on her cheek. "I truly admire your tenacity and courage. But I'm afraid this is a problem well beyond your ability."

His voice was gentle and affectionate. But Natasha shook her head against his caressing hand. "Loki...you don't have do this. There must be-"

"There is no other way. I must do this alone. For my teammates, my brother, for everyone on Midgard. And for you."

He hugged her and rested his lips close to her ear. What he said next was soft and barely heard, but it broke her heart to hear it.

"Natasha, I love you with all my heart and soul. If I ever fall in battle, I will die with a smile on my face as I think of you."

She gripped his arm with force. "No, don't say that. You _will_ survive."

"I am being realistic. You know as well as I do."

"To hell with that," she replied fiercely. "Love is a commitment that goes both ways. I promised I won't abandon you. I always keep my promises. So you better not abandon me either."

Hearing her lifted his heart despite the grim task ahead. He smiled at her with resolution burning bright in his eyes. "Very well. Then I will fight with the hope of coming back to you alive."

Without warning, he pulled her into a passionate kiss. Natasha threw her arms around him as he held her tightly. She wanted to be suspended in this moment, to relive it forever and never have to let go. Reality shattered back into her senses when they broke apart. Loki buried his fingers into her hair, pressing his forehead against hers. He appeared to be in pain; his eyes were shut and she saw his throat swell. He finally looked up to meet her gaze.

"I must go now. Help the other Avengers; my duty is elsewhere."

"You're doing this because of me..." she said softly. "It's my fault. I'm the reason why you've decided to stay. I'm sending you to your death."

"No...you have given me a reason to fight. To me, you are someone worth fighting for."

He planted a gentle kiss on her nose. Then he stepped back and disappeared in front of her. Natasha was left alone in the NASA lab.

The Russian spy steeled herself and went off to her fellow agents and teammates. Much as she worried about Loki, she had a job to do. Whatever S.H.I.E.L.D. asked of her, she'll be there.

* * *

In a matter of hours, S.H.I.E.L.D. and the government launched their joint operation. News of mass evacuation from "otherworldly terrorism" was everywhere. Panic gripped the East Coast. All branches of the U.S. military moved swiftly to provide mass transport. Due to the Chitauri attack months ago, and the timely intervention of the Avengers, no one objected to their orders to leave New York. Citizens of all classes took their families and most important possessions; they wasted no time. Houses, condos and workplaces had to be left behind. Hardly anyone knew exactly what was going on. But they had no choice but to put their faith in the combined efforts of the Avengers and the government.

Loki remained in New York. He teleported to the Buddhist temple and found it deserted. Even the animals in the garden were gone. It no longer seemed lovely and peaceful, only lonely and ominous.

'Good, it seems that everyone has-'

Loki heard footsteps. He turned to see Ming come down the steps. The monk looked up and smiled.

"Hello, Loki."

He sounded serene and at ease, as if he was completely unaware of the impending doom.

Loki managed a bow, but his voice held barely suppressed urgency. "I did not know you were still here. The entire city is evacuating; you must go with them."

The monk nodded. "I know. I have sensed the danger long before the city had stirred. A sixth sense, you might call it."

He sighed as his gaze swept the view of the gardens. "I told my fellow monks and acolytes to leave before me. My heart is heavy with the thought of leaving this place. But it would be foolish to remain here any longer. I have to let go."

Loki swallowed. To die in battle meant letting go of Natasha. Was he truly ready to accept his fate? Just as Ming was ready to let go of everything dear to him? Loki sighed heavily. "I'm sorry...it's my fault all of this is happening. But I swear I will make things right."

"Who are you, Loki? Truly?"

It was a simple question, direct yet with no accusation. For an instant, the monk reminded Loki of Natasha. Was he really that easy to read nowadays? Loki didn't find it in his heart to hide from the monk any longer. His fist turned blue as he placed it over his chest. He stared back at Ming through red eyes filled not with ferocity, but resolution.

"I am the ice that will put out the fire."

Ming did not react with shock or horror. A small smile graced his aged face. "I always knew you were different somehow."

Loki couldn't help but feel the shadow of a doubt. "Do you think I'm strong enough for the challenge ahead?"

Finally the monk replied, "Yin and yang. Fire and ice. Good and evil. The god of chaos that strives for order will create peace. Yes, I know you will do well." Ming walked to the temple's ornate gate. "Until we meet again, Loki."

"Good-bye, and thank you for everything."

The monk departed, leaving Loki truly alone in the temple. It was only a matter of time before it would be inevitably consumed by fire. Even before Loki discovered his Jotun heritage, he was never fond of anything pertaining to heat or fire. He had always wondered why he would feel particularly exhausted and weak after attempting fire-based spells. Now he knew; fire was his natural enemy, and he would do whatever it took to save this realm from its destructive touch.

Loki spent the rest of the day exercising his long-dormant magical skills. He specialized in the art of illusions and deception, particularly the clone technique. But he doubted he could hold against Surtur with that alone. The number of doppelgangers he could create would mean almost nothing compared to Surtur's colossal size. Instead, he decided to focus on using his energy stemmed from the Casket of Ancient Winters. Manipulating the cool ice and water in his hands soothed the rapid, anxious beating of his heart.

* * *

The Avengers were an important presence among the military if they were to keep the people calm and orderly. No one questioned Captain America or Thor, as they gently but firmly gave orders. Bruce surprised everyone by being as quiet and controlled as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Years of experience helped him keep a cool head, and not give in to the barely suppressed stress and anxiety among the citizens.

Clint and Natasha were together in a transport aircraft. It was filled to the brim with passengers, mostly important city officials. Some of them looked very worried and scared. Whether it was fear of the danger soon to come to New York, their destination ahead or even the thought of falling out of the sky from too many passengers, Clint and Natasha had no idea. The pair of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents did not worry at all. They remained standing as they coolly surveyed the passengers, making sure the flight was going smoothly.

After an hour of tense silence, Clint leaned in to quietly slip a conversation with Natasha.

"Is it really all right to let Loki handle this Fire Giant by himself? What is he thinking?"

Her reply was terse. "You heard him. He would rather have us help everyone evacuate. Pretty selfless of him, if you ask me."

"What if he's going to abandon us? What if this is just a part of another scheme? With New York abandoned, he can just come in and-"

"You _still_ think of him that way? Loki has changed." Natasha narrowed her eyes, so that her sharp green gaze penetrated him. "He is putting his life on the line for us. How dare you make such an unfair accusation. You're being ridiculous."

"Am I?" he hissed back. "We're putting all our faith and trust on one man to defend the entire East Coast against a _Fire Giant_."

Natasha studied her companion. She knew him well enough to see how he was almost failing to suppress his anger. She knew it from noticing his white knuckles and clenched jaw. Most people would say Agent Barton was hard to read. Natasha would say otherwise. Only she could detect the nuances underneath his strong and sturdy facial features. She could tell the difference between him concentrating on a target and fuming over something. Though he would never shout and cause a scene right now, she knew Clint was at his limit.

"You're right..." she replied quietly. "I do trust Loki."

Clint was about to reply when the aircraft began to land. He momentarily fell silent, and helped Natasha usher the passengers out. They exited the aircraft and entered the commotion of bustling refugees.

"What has gotten to you, Nat? Since when did you learn to trust anyone so readily?"

"Clint, we don't have time for this," she snapped. "You had faith in me that I could change. Look what happened. Maybe it's time you have faith in Loki too."

Natasha turned her attention to assisting those who couldn't speak or understand English. Despite his anger, it comforted Clint a little...to see her tell everyone in Spanish, French, Russian and even Chinese that things were going to be all right. However small and insignificant she may seem compared to her more famous teammates, Natasha's calm and controlled manner proved to be just as important.

It wasn't until late in the afternoon when Loki arrived at Canada to meet the Avengers in the Helicarrier. He came inconspicuously and avoided a public entrance, in case he was still remembered unfavorably and his presence would induce panic. Everyone except for Clint warmly welcomed him. His heart clenched when Loki wrapped his arms around Natasha and firmly kissed her.

Thor gave him the biggest hug, of course. "Brother, are you sure you don't want any help from me? We can finish him together."

'Stubborn as always, Thor.' It was a fond thought this time.

Loki shook his head with a sad smile. "I'm sorry. My decision still stands. Besides, I need to show you that I can be strong too."

Thor looked reluctant and resigned. "Very well. I do not think Mjolnir would be of any use against Surtur. Lightning only fuels the fire. Father was right to say that only you can stop him."

Loki knew that Thor was making a sacrifice, considering the God of Thunder's pride and love for battle. This was a sign that Thor could make a worthy king of Asgard someday. For the longest time, Loki's envy prevented him from making such an observation.

Fury, Coulson and Hill joined the Avengers in the main control room.

"Good to see you, Loki," the Director said. "How is New York?"

"Completely empty. Quite a change from the usual atmosphere."

"I bet," Steve remarked. "Even back in my day, in the late twenties, New York is as busy and hectic as a bee hive."

"Agent Coulson, did you bring the scepter with you?" Loki asked.

"Of course. We wouldn't want to leave it in New York for Surtur to destroy. Why do you ask?"

"Forgive me, but I must use it one last time. During the Chitauri invasion, the scepter was not only a weapon, but a way to communicate with their superior, the dark sorceror Salastarr."

"At least let us join you on this, brother," Thor said. "We will show those fiends that we support you whole-heartedly."

Loki glanced at his comrades, taking notice of their faces reflecting Thor's sentiment. Coulson came back with another agent carefully handling the scepter. Loki took it from them and held it parallel to his body. "Very well. Everyone gather around me."

Loki closed his eyes, took a deep breath and aligned his energy with the scepter. The blue light at the end glowed brighter. The enclosed, clean space of the Helicarrier seemed to melt all around them...to reveal a view of Muspelheim. No sun, moon or star could be seen among the ashy skies. Even though they weren't really there, the sight filled them with repulsion and dread.

"You're right, Loki..." Steve whispered. "This is hell."

Thanos and Salastarr had auras surrounding their figures. Even they had to shield themselves from the poisonous air and blistering heat.

Behind them was the King of Muspelheim himself. Surtur was a frightening sight. He towered over all of them, even as he sat on a throne of molten lava. He bore the same black eyes, fangs and serpentine tongue that had appeared on Natasha when he possessed her.

"I see you have agreed to a decision. Let us hear it out."

Tony glared. "No one's turning in anybody."

Confusion momentarily crossed Thanos and Salastarr's faces. Loki could see things weren't quite going as planned for them.

'They were hoping that the Avengers would readily hand me over...so I could fall right into their hands without a problem.'

Thanos tried to read their faces, and he scowled. "What are you mortals doing?"

Loki squared his shoulders and lifted his head high. "I will fight."

Thanos and Salastarr looked both surprised and dismayed. Natasha tightened her hand on Loki's shoulder, and he felt the firm comfort of her gesture.

Surtur narrowed his black eyes. "So be it. You will all die along with your foolish enemy, who is now your foolish friend."

The Fire Giant turned to Loki. He did nothing to conceal the sadistic glee in his voice. "You are an arrogant fool. After tomorrow, you will be a dead man. Your soul belongs to _death_!"

The courage and fighting spirit stirred in Loki's blood. The desire to protect his comrades, adopted brother and lover was something he never thought he had until now. Surtur's threat only made Loki more determined to defeat the Fire Giant. He felt the Asgardian warrior within him rise. The light on the scepter dimmed, and the fiery scenery of Muspelheim faded.

Loki looked up to see the sunset. His eyes seemed to glaze over. "It's nearly time. I must head back to New York and face my enemy soon."

He turned to leave, but Fury stopped him.

"Wait, Loki."

By the look on the Director's face, Loki knew he had something important to say.

"For the sake of brevity, I would just like to say this on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D: from this day on, you are now officially an Avenger."

Loki's face was one of blatant surprise. For a few moments, he was speechless. "Thank you, Director. I am very honored."

Tony clapped him hard on the shoulder. "Congratulations, you're actually one of us now! Welcome to our super secret boy band!"

Steve shook his hand. "Director Fury had us go through a formal ceremony to be initiated. But we'll have time for that later...if you manage to come back."

Loki was thrilled. He was an Avenger, just like Thor. They were finally on equal footing. An Avenger...it sounded so noble and good. He would rather die with that title than die as a coward. He wasn't going to run away or hide anymore.

* * *

_Brace yourselves! Surtur is coming!_

_Happy End of the World Day! :P I hope everyone's safe and nothing is happening out of the norm. My little sister expected the Apocalypse but got an iPad for Christmas instead. Pleasant surprise for her lol. This is kind of rushed because my mom's forcing me to help out at a Vietnamese Catholic retreat this weekend at a Wi-Fi wasteland (horrible timing, if you ask me). I might get back to editing this later. :/[Gum]_


	17. Fire and Ice

_I was supposed to update this on Dec. 25, but there was a power outage at my house. I blamed Thor for the excessive thunderstorm, of course. Anyways, hope you enjoy! [Gum]_

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (17)**  
**Fire and Ice**

**"It's time for me**  
**My sword and flame protect you**  
**Just you can see the fire**  
**We're flying in the sky**  
**No one blames you, NO!**  
**Forget your self abuse**  
**Now we have grown and fast**  
**Another chance to grasp the earth."**  
**~Blue Exorcist, "Me and Creed" by Mika Kobayashi**

Loki Laufeyson, Earth's newest Avenger, stood straight and tall on the Empire State Building. He was clad in the full glory of his Asgardian armor. The weight of his helmet felt oddly comforting as he proudly bore the horns that reared over his head. His long green cape billowed gently behind him. He held no weapon. His hands relaxed close to his sides, but they were ready for anything.

There was no turning back now. He will either put a stop to the cataclysm, or end up dying in it.

* * *

Back in Canada, Thor summoned Huginn and Muninn. He ignored the Avengers' surprise at the large, talking ravens as he implored their aid.

"Could you show Loki at New York City? These people do not have access to their electronic media to know what's going on. It is much too dangerous for them to come in with their helicopters and cameras. We need your omniscient powers."

Huginn dipped his head. "Of course. We are at your service, my prince."

Muninn followed suit. "Yes yes...your wish is our command."

The ravens took off and circled high in the sky like vultures. They flew faster and faster, until their bodies merged and formed a circle of light. The image that appeared within the circle looked like a hole torn in the sky.

Away from where Huginn and Muninn circled, the image they conjured appeared in the screen of every television and laptop imaginable. People stopped whatever they were doing. They leaned forward, peering at the screen warily. Many recognized Loki, though not in a favorable light.

"Hey, isn't that the crazy horned guy from before?"

"The one who led the alien invasion?"

"Yeah, that's the one. What the hell is he doing there?"

"Get the Avengers to kick his ass again!"

"That son of a bitch's gonna pay for all the people he killed!"

Thor overheard some of these remarks and his fists audibly tightened. Tony patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, big guy. They'll know the truth soon enough."

Bruce pointed to the top of the ravens' image. "Hey, what's that coming out of the sky?"

People murmured in curiosity and apprehension. The Avengers remained silent, though they harbored the same feeling of dread. They knew what, or who, has finally arrived.

* * *

Loki looked up, and his stomach clenched at the darkening sky. Black, angry clouds appeared. An ominous rumbling growl from above seemed to shake the ground. Suddenly the air grew hotter. Then a huge beam of white light surged downwards, just a little away from where the Empire State building stood.

The light did not fade. Instead, it shifted into a hulking, humanoid figure. Surtur was utterly enormous. His fiery, hideous face was level with Loki, for he stood almost as tall as the Empire State building. Meeting him personally was far worse than seeing him through the scepter. The Fire Giant reeked of hot ash and sulfur. His eyes were black holes, filled with nothing but malice.

Surtur's deep, mocking voice tremored like an earthquake. "Where are your friends now, trickster? Have they abandoned you so soon?"

Loki mustered the courage to glare back. "This is just between you and me, Fire Giant. I will not let you bring this realm to ruin."

The sinister black eyes narrowed. "Such a bold claim you make," the Fire Giant growled. "I wonder if your supposed excellence in magic can withstand my sheer power!"

Surtur roared a wordless battle cry. Loki shielded himself just in time. The ice that encased his body saved him from Surtur's poisonous breath. Loki vaulted up in the air before the Fire Giant rammed his head into the building. Chunks of concrete and shards of glass exploded everywhere.

'I must not touch him,' Loki thought. 'His skin will burn me to a crisp.'

He jumped off from a large piece of concrete. He hurtled above and behind Surtur. As he fell, he shot shards of ice straight at Surtur's head. The Fire Giant whirled around and merely growled in irritation. His hand lashed out. He swatted at Loki as if he was a fly. Loki cursed as he was sandwiched between Surtur's hand above him and a building beneath him. The combination of ice and armor protected his body, though he felt dazed and bruised from crashing through many floors.

Loki kept his distance and hurtled attacks from afar. Even so, Surtur still towered over him. And he didn't seem fazed by the attacks at all. Loki had to stop so he could save his energy and evade Surtur's retaliations.

He gritted his teeth as he leapt from one rooftop to another. 'I'm using the Casket...the ice should damage him, at least weaken him a little. He's just too damn big.'

"Is that all you have?" Surtur snarled. "Make this a challenge for me! I will destroy you, puny trickster! You, along with this pitiful planet!"

The Fire Giant let loose an onslaught of fiery meteors. Loki ducked and weaved out of the way, heading farther into the city.

Loki's mind ran as fast as his legs. 'I need more power. From an outside source too...if I rely on my reserves alone, I'll tire quickly and my death will be just as swift.'

He conjured a few clones, hoping they would distract Surtur. He watched as flames erupted upon his copies. A doppelganger violently exploded just overhead. He looked up in alarm.

'That could have been me...'

Loki ducked under a highway. He ran through an underground parking lot that connected to a large mall. He wasn't safe for long; fire rained down on the concrete, piercing the darkness with sharp, destructive flashes of light. Cars of all shapes and sizes were tossed up like toys.

"You can run, but you cannot hide!" Surtur roared from above. "I've had enough of your tricks! Come out and face me like a real warrior!"

Loki stopped to catch his breath. What could he do next? He almost succumbed into mindless panic when a hollow drip jerked him from his stupor. A few feet away from him, water leaked from the pipes above to form a dirty puddle below. His eyes widened.

'Of course! Why haven't I thought of it before?'

Cars and building alike shook from the tremors. Plumes of smoke and flame erupted from below. It galvanized Loki into action. Instead of running aimlessly, he teleported resolutely to the rooftop. He made no effort to conceal himself. His intention was quite the opposite.

He cupped both hands to his mouth and called as loudly as he could: "Your face is uglier than the arse of a bilgesnipe! That's why no one is around to see it!"

Surtur howled in anger and stormed after the God of Mischief. Loki leapt from the buildings to run on the streets. He looked back to make sure Surtur was following. He was glad that the Fire Giant had an ego as big as his monstrous body. A meteor crashed so close to Loki that he was thrown up in the air. It was so abrupt that he had no time to conjure a shield. He tumbled and hit the concrete hard. His helmet rolled away and he heard his cape rip. Disregarding his garments, Loki quickly rose to his feet.

'With the rate I'm going, I'll never make it. I need to move faster. And I can't do that with my two legs alone.'

Loki pulled out a small knife. He cut the palm of his hand, drawing blood. Clasping his hands together, he shouted an incantation.

"_Kom till min hjälp_! Come to my aid! I summon you, Draugur!"

Loki threw his arms wide. The drops of blood became a massive swirl of green fire. Draugur emerged from the flames to serve his rider. Loki leapt onto his back, took up the reins, and together they blazed through the streets of New York. The ashy wind pulled at his black hair. It stung his eyes. Buildings and cars fell over and exploded all around them. Surtur's flames hit the top half of a skyscraper. It fell over with an earshattering groan. Before it threatened to engulf the street and crush them, Draugur vaulted over with amazing strength. He jumped over cars and debris with even less effort. The concrete split as fire spewed from the cracks. Draugur narrowly avoided a sinkhole that would've vaporized them. Like any well-trained war horse, he did not rear, scream or shy away. He raced through Central Park. Loki held the reins tightly and kept his head low. Trees and shrubbery went up in flames and crackling leaves.

"We need to get away from the city!" Loki shouted to his horse. "Take me to the bay nearby!"

Draugur tossed his head and snorted in affirmation. He flew like a great black eagle, his legs a blur as he galloped vigorously and tirelessly. The loud, rumbling footfalls of Surtur weren't too far behind them.

Loki's heart lifted when he saw water in the midst of fire and ashes. Draugur headed straight for Loki's intended destination: Manhattan Bay. The festival site, where he and Natasha had spent the night together, was decimated by flames. His heart sunk at the sight. He was determined to stop Surtur once and for all.

Then Loki rubbed the horse's neck. "You've done well. I will take over from here."

Draugur ran down the pier. He took a great leap off the edge. Then the black stallion disappeared in green flame, leaving Loki to plummet into the waters alone. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. As soon as he hit the water he swam to the bottom. It was deep, dark and cold. But not cold enough.

He extended his arms with open palms. His brow furrowed as he let energy course through his body, reveling in the power and strength he would need. He heard the waters of Manhattan Bay stirring around him. He began to move his arms in a circular motion, manipulating the water with his magic.

'The water is a part of me, and I am a part of it.' he told himself. 'I must accept who I am...embrace my identity as a Frost Giant...a monster!'

Loki moved his arms harder and faster until he seemed to make a maelstrom with his own body. The waters around him moved in a swirling current, increasing in size and strength. His palms closed into fists as the current escalated into a powerful whirlpool. He used the force to launch himself from the bottom. The whirlpool supported his body as he broke the surface. It rose until it was nearly as tall as the bridge.

Loki was drenched and battered, clad only in black pants, frayed gauntlets and an armored sash. He was also blue-skinned and red-eyed, for the whole world and Surtur to see.

* * *

Every citizen had his or her eyes glued to the screen, now clearly rooting for Loki as he fought for their sake. They even cheered and watched in awe as he burst out of the water. The Avengers were astounded that, true to Thor's words, Loki was a great fighter in his own right.

Coulson and Hill stared intensely at a Helicarrier monitor. Every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent huddled over a screen, much like how they had witnessed the Chitauri invasion. Tony held Pepper firmly by the waist. Fury stood by himself, his hands folded behind him and his eye fixed on the image in the sky.

But no one looked as tense as Natasha. Unlike Thor, who was animated and shouted encouragements to fight, she remained silent. Clint knew that deep down, she was far from relaxed. The pained look on her face was more than he could bear.

Clint took her hand in his and wrapped it in a warm, reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, Nat. He's strong. He'll be all right."

She turned and gave him a small, grateful smile. Her eyes returned to the ravens' image. She stared hatefully at Surtur, and at the same time strengthened her faith in Loki that he would be strong and brave enough to defeat that monster. Surtur had little reason, other than satisfying his malevolent pleasure, to come and destroy Earth. Loki had all the more to save it.

* * *

The Fire Giant looked surprised for a split second. "A Jotun...no matter. You are a drop of water soon to be lost before my blazing inferno."

Loki smirked. "Not if that drop of water becomes part of a tidal wave."

Surtur launched some fire, only for Loki to counter it with a huge whip of water drawn from the bay. The fires of Muspelheim, collided against the ice of Jotunheim, exploded in a cloud of steam. The flames managed to graze his arms, its heat amplified by the metal of his gauntlets. Loki grunted in pain. He hastily tore them off. He reinforced his arms by encasing them in sharp ice.

He gritted his teeth as he summoned the full power of the Casket of Ancient Winters. Cold...absolute, sheer cold. He felt it engulfing his core, his essence. It was so cold that it burned. The very air condensed into tendrils of tiny ice shards that surrounded his body. Loki clenched his fists. He propelled himself forward with all the strength, power and will he had left.

The onlookers began to gasp and murmur in shock.

Pepper put a hand to her mouth. "Don't tell me he's-"

"He's heading straight for that Fire Giant!" Bruce exclaimed.

"A kamikaze attack..." Steve said in a hushed voice.

Loki was a living comet, streaked white, gray and blue against a sky of ashy black and fiery red. He ignored the blood seeping through his nostrils and mouth as it ran down his chin. He disregarded the burning, protesting screams of his muscles. Surtur's meteors collided and dissolved harmlessly against Loki's swirling vortex of water and ice.

He fired off twin jets of high-speed water. They hit each of Surtur's arms and hardened into ice. The Fire Giant snarled as the water barred him from finishing his attacks. It was only for a moment. But that was all Loki needed.

"_Feel the bite of winter, Surtur_!"

With the full strength of a sorcerer by trade, a Jotun by blood and a warrior of Asgard by heart, Loki plunged straight into the King of Muspelheim. A scream ripped from Loki's throat as the sheer heat instantly engulfed him. But Surtur screamed louder. Loki drilled farther into the hellish flames to pierce Surtur's heart. A great shockwave emanated from his core. The Fire Giant staggered, his bellows reduced to hissing and screeching. His humanoid form collapsed into a mess of fiery chaos.

"Y-you fool!" Surtur howled. "Your sacrifice means nothing! Even with my death and yours, Midgard will be engulfed in hell! We are two monsters soon to die, nothing more."

Loki managed a weak, bloody smile. "You are wrong. I have friends...and family...and love. I will stop at nothing...until even hell freezes over."

There was no way to stop Surtur other than destroying him from within. If this insured the survival of everything he held dear, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Faces flashed before him. Faces of all his loved ones. Steve, Bruce, Clint, Tony, Pepper, Jane, Darcy...Odin, Frigga, Thor, and most of all...

He felt his lungs wither and collapse inside his chest. His failing heart wrenched. 'My dear Natasha...I wish I could see you one last time...to die in your arms...I want to feel your lips, not these damn flames, to touch me before I go...'

Frost Giant and Fire Giant descended into Manhattan Bay together. Their fall sent up huge waves and a tremendous splash.

Surtur, the King of Muspelheim, would never rise. But neither would Loki.

* * *

'No, it can't be...'

Natasha didn't want to believe it. A few seconds passed. But the waters stilled, and the nightmare seemed to come true.

She tore her eyes away from Huginn and Muninn's image. She ran out of the shelter and down the snowy path as fast as her legs could carry her.

"Natasha, wait!"

She ignored Clint's plea. She kept on running.

Then her feet slipped over the ice and she felt her legs give way. She was in no condition to run for long. Natasha fell to her knees, her shoulders heaving as she tried to catch her breath and suppress her sobs. There seemed to be a never-ending sea of white before her, with unrelenting snow and bitter cold that chilled her to the bone. Sorrow and despair. It all reminded Natasha of the time she had defected from Russia, fleeing for her life across the knee-deep, snowy wastes of Siberia.

She felt so weak...so empty...so alone.

Clint and Steve caught up to her, followed by Thor with Mjolnir and Tony with his suit. Natasha felt the warmth of their hands, saw the mist in the air from their breaths, as they asked her if she was all right. A large shadow loomed over all of them. They looked up to see Bruce, now as the Hulk, gaze down at Natasha with human sympathy in his eyes despite his beastly figure. The Hulk scooped all the Avengers into his hands and ran. Natasha felt his hand envelop her body gently, though she clung tightly onto his green skin as his run broke into astoundingly powerful jumps. She heard that he was capable of covering several miles in a single leap. Now she saw that it was no exaggeration.

Within minutes they reached New York City. The Hulk took no heed of the destruction, nor did anything bar his way, as he headed for Manhattan Bay.

He set them down at the pier and dove headfirst into the water. Thor made to join him when the Hulk resurfaced, carrying something limp, wet and black. The green giant laid it upon the ground with unusual gentleness.

"Oh my God..." Steve murmured.

"That can't be Loki...can it?" Tony said.

"Loki! My brother!" Thor cried. Tears welled in his eyes as he gazed upon the damaged body. Loki was mangled beyond recognition. Though drenched from the water, smoke still rose from the gaping holes that were his eyes and mouth. Little of his black hair remained on his head. Burned patches of skin sloughed off like hot butter.

Natasha's breath hitched in her throat. She placed a hand over what could be his chest. He felt cold, sticky and charred all at once. But she couldn't feel a heartbeat. Not a single flutter. Natasha began to panic.

"He's not breathing!" she choked. "He's not breathing!"

She turned to Thor with wildly desperate eyes. "Please...is there anything you can do?"

Tears ran down his cheeks as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Natasha. I do not know. No one has ever survived an attack from Surtur...let alone slay him. My dear brother has paid a great price."

The Hulk reverted back to Bruce, who looked drenched and defeated. "I can't believe it..." he murmured. "He actually did it. He protected us all."

"Natasha, your scars!" Tony exclaimed. "They're gone!"

She lifted trembling fingers to her cheek and slowly traced it down to the corner of her lip. She felt nothing. Just the skin that felt the same everywhere else. Not a trace of scar tissue...Tony was right. Her scars completely disappeared.

"I don't understand..." she whispered.

Thor's voice was unusually quiet and hushed. "His love for you must've been so strong that it became a sort of healing spell. I don't quite understand it myself. Some magic can be done passively. The process was gradual, almost unnoticeable." He dashed a hand over his eyes, but more tears welled up. "It has grown much stronger, now that he is..."

Natasha felt her heart break. "No...no, no, _no_!"She threw back her head and wailed.

Pepper, Maria, Jane and Darcy stared numbly at the TV screens, their faces wet with tears. Many people around them were in tears as well. Then they too began to bow their heads...Fury, Coulson, Dr. Selvig, James Rhodey, Happy Hogan, everyone...as they mourned for the man who had saved all their lives.

* * *

Even on Asgard, galaxies away from Midgard, Natasha's grief could be sensed by Odin Allfather and Queen Frigga. They were stunned and moved by her immense love for their adopted son. The great hall rang with the sound of Frigga's sobs. Odin was proud...so proud of his son who finally proved his worth in battle. He turned to his ravens, who perched silently at the armrest of his throne. Though they were actually in Midgard, they appeared in Asgard only as projections.

"Huginn, Muninn...tell me...what do you see?"

Even the ravens were quiet and solemn. They bowed heads till their beaks touched their claws.

"We see him...Loki Laufeyson..."

"We see his spirit..."

"It speeds to the glorious halls of Valhalla..."

"The halls that will receive his great, valiant and noble spirit with open arms..."

Odin couldn't bear to hear anymore. He tightened his grip on Gungnir until he couldn't feel his hand. Frigga put her hands on his shoulders as she wept. Odin bowed his white-haired head. He knew it would happen. He had foreseen it long ago. It was why he allowed Loki back on Midgard in the first place. So he could find love and be loved. It still seemed like yesterday he brought back the undersized Jotun infant to Asgard, with twinkling eyes and a wide smile that won the hearts of Frigga and Thor. Now Loki was gone.

A single tear slid from his single eye. "My son..."

Once bent on revenge, Loki had returned to avenge. He succeeded in redeeming his honor and the respect he finally deserved. Loki was a hero. He became what he truly wanted to be, at the cost of his life.

* * *

Natasha did nothing to hide her grief. She was tired of hiding. A sob escaped her as she reached out to cradle Loki's head to her chest. Her shoulders shook as tears fell. "Loki, please..." she whispered. "Don't leave me. You can't be dead. _Please_. I love you...I love you so much..."

Thor wrapped an arm around Natasha and pulled her close, as if she were his own sister. "There's nothing we can do. He is probably in Valhalla now..."

Tony was in shock. He shook his head numbly, as if he had stumbled through a nightmare. Bruce's shoulders slumped dejectedly, and Steve bowed his head in a grave, solemn manner fit for bidding farewell to a fallen soldier. Even Clint was at a loss. A feeling came over him he thought he would never have towards Loki: guilt. He had been wrong about Loki after all. The God of Mischief really did love Natasha; otherwise he wouldn't end up like this.

He snapped out of his thoughts when something caught his eye. He wasn't called Hawkeye for nothing. Everyone stared as Clint knelt down close to Loki's body. He removed his shades and held it close to the black hole that was supposed to be Loki's mouth.

Mist appeared on the lenses. It was faint, but it was there. Everyone's heart leaped.

"He's alive! Loki is alive!" Thor exclaimed.

Natasha thought she was going to faint from immense relief and joy. She was speechless; she merely stared at Clint as if he were a savior.

"Thank God you noticed that, Clint..." Steve said gratefully. "None of us would have."

"The flames of Surtur must've been so damaging that they literally peeled away his skin." Bruce said.

Thor nodded in agreement. "Loki has expended all his energy and magic. He's too weak to revert back to his Asgardian appearance."

"What do we do, then?" Steve asked. "There probably isn't a hospital left to take him."

"We cannot act rash," Thor said. "Loki is in a very fragile state. His Jotun skin is extremely sensitive to heat, and this place is surrounded by debris and fire."

Tony's fist bumped together with his palm in a confident, metallic clang. "I got an idea! How about liquid nitrogen? We can bring in a tank and put Loki inside! He'll be good to go like ice cream in a freezer!"

Natasha glared at him. He shrugged. "Look, sometimes you say crazy shit when you get your hopes up."

Bruce rubbed his chin. "Yes, that might just work."

Tony frowned. "Where the hell can we find a vault big and cold enough for Loki?"

"The Helicarrier has a storage room that contains massive tanks of liquid nitrogen," Clint offered. "I can send for one."

Thor put a firm hand on the archer's shoulder. "Please...anything to save my brother."

Natasha was in no shape to contact S.H.I.E.L.D. with Clint. She remained next to Loki, holding his hand just as tightly as he was clinging onto his life.

Tony and Bruce worked together to make the nitrogen tank accommodated for Loki. They attached a breathing mask, accompanied by an oxygen tank, to Loki so he could breathe while suspended in liquid nitrogen. It was an excruciatingly delicate process. With the help of paramedics, Tony and Bruce very gently moved Loki on a stretcher, directly over the tank's opening. They were quick yet careful with submerging Loki into the nitrogen. The valves immediately snapped shut, so the liquid wouldn't escape.

The tank was wheeled into the Quinjet, and Natasha joined her teammates onboard. Steve and Tony were busy talking to Director Fury over the phone.

The Captain later explained to the Avengers. "All right, everyone...we're taking Loki to the medical center in Ontario. The fire department has just been sent to take care of the wreck in New York. All citizens must remain in Canada until the city's cleaned."

"What about us?" Bruce asked.

"Whatever you want, I guess." Tony gripped the tank as the Quinjet slightly turned. "I plan to check up on the tower real quick. Then I'll probably fly back to Canada to be with you guys, in case Fury wants me for something."

"I will stay with my brother until he gets well," Thor declared.

"I'll stay too," Natasha said quietly.

How in the world was Loki still alive? The answer was obviously beyond scientific rationality. It had to be love. It was love that saved Loki's life and healed her wounds. She felt like such a fool to scorn it before. From that point on, Natasha never questioned its power. It seemed like at the moment, no one on Earth was a more ardent believer of love than the former Russian assassin.

* * *

_Loki lives! I would be swamped by pissed off readers if I killed him off. He's too awesome to die! Well, technically he did...but Nat brought him back! BlackFrost will always prevail!_

_I want to wish everyone happy holidays and a merry Christmas! Hope you guys got the presents you wanted...it's okay, I didn't get Tom Hiddleston under my Christmas tree either. My house doesn't even have a tree! xD [Gum]_


	18. Hero's Welcome

_Hey guys, sorry for the late update. Thanks for still following!_

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (18)**  
**Hero's Welcome**

**"The price of victory is high, but so are the rewards."**  
**~Paul Bryant**

Loki saw light.

But that wasn't what pulled him in, because he was being pulled back by something else. A voice.

"Loki, please...Don't leave me. You can't be dead. _Please_. I love you...I love you so much..."

Someone was crying and pleading for _him_. But for some reason, he didn't know who it was. He couldn't remember. He struggled in vain to clear his clouded mind.

'Who is that? Who's calling me?'

Loki looked down and saw a woman, though she seemed more like a wraith. He could barely make out her translucent figure. Her voice was oddly alluring, almost beckoning him to come closer. Could she be the one?

'I'm tired...I just want to rest. That light is too bright. I want someplace dark where I can sleep for a while...'

Then something warm and soft touched his cheek.

The woman below instantly transformed. Her face became pale and gaunt. Her mouth split open to scream in anger. She reached out with a skeletal arm to grab him. Repulsed, Loki recoiled in fear.

'What in the Nine Realms is she so angry about?'

He turned his face upwards to see a beautiful young woman, who had rested her hand on his face. At first glance he thought it was Natasha. But her hair was long and black, not short and red. For some reason, her facial features greatly resembled Natasha's.

A gentle smile spread on her full lips. Her green eyes glowed with warmth and light. "Don't listen to her, Father. Mistress Death will not have you now."

Her voice seemed to soothe him, and at the same time resonate through his body and fill him with vigor. Loki blinked slowly, as if dazed in a trance. "Are you here to take me to Valhalla?"

"No...you will not rest there either. It is not your time yet. I'm here to guide you back to the realm of the living."

The woman took Loki's hand and led him away from the light, but not into the darkness either.

"Do not let go, Father. Your life hangs in the balance. To return to the living, you must trust me and hold on tightly."

Loki furrowed his brow in confusion. "Why do you call me-?"

"Shh...your body is very weak." Her finger was warm on Loki's lips. "Before restoring your physical self, your soul must be calm and rejuvenated."

He obeyed her by falling silent and remaining still. He let her gently guide him, feeling weightless and free in a world that transcended the boundaries of time and the reality of space. She seemed to know where she was going and what she was doing, so Loki trusted her word.

He did not know how much time had passed when she finally let go of his hand. "This is when I must leave you. We will meet again someday."

"Wait, don't go. I have so much to ask you."

"I'm sorry that I cannot tell you now. But when the time comes, all your questions will be answered. Farewell, Father..."

The young woman floated away from Loki and turned to leave. He saw faint outlines far in the distance, silent and unmoving. He peered harder...and he thought he saw a pair of young boys, a serpent, a wolf and a horse. When the woman approached them, they disappeared from sight altogether. But not before the woman looked over her shoulder, with a loving smile that graced her fair complexion. Her face seemed to fill his vision. It grew brighter and stronger, almost overwhelming.

Loki opened his eyes.

Natasha hovered over him, and her eyes widened in surprise. She reached out to touch him. Then out of fear of hurting him, she drew her hand away.

"Nat..." he croaked. His throat felt raw and unused; as soon as he tried to speak, he fell into a fit of coughs.

"Shh...don't try to talk. You're badly hurt."

"It was you, Natasha...You pulled me back."

She looked surprised. "You heard my voice?"

"The sweetest sound that ever filled the fiber of my being. It rang clear and true, stronger than the lure of death. Even the promise of eternal rest in Valhalla. I did not think it was my time yet. Not until I have spent it among the living, with the woman I love."

Then Loki laughed weakly. "My manner of speaking must sound odd to you. What do you Midgardians call it? What's the word...corny? Cheesy?"

A smile dispelled the somber look on Natasha's face. "You were being honest, so I don't care."

Loki did not mention the mysterious young woman. Who was she? And why did she call him Father? He knew for certain that he had sired no children. Even more unsettling...despite her black hair, why did she look so much like Natasha?

Thor burst into the hospital room with joy radiating from his face. "Loki, you're awake! Thank the gods. We had all feared you were lost."

"Well, I'm back."

Thor sat opposite of Natasha. "While you were unconscious, Father had Eir herself come to Midgard and check on you."

"Asgard's chief healer was here?"

Thor nodded. "Eir admitted to us that for all her knowledge of healing and herbal lore, she has never attempted to heal a Jotun before. She was unsure of how to proceed. She had, however, left a flask of Firebreeze for you before she departed."

Firebreeze was an herb found in Asgard, similar in shape, color and taste to the Midgardian mint. Its extracted juices were effective with soothing burns and promoting skin rejuvenation.

Thor gestured to the large freezer and air conditioning in the hospital room. "Eir concluded that the Midgardian technology here is sufficient enough to keep you cold and healthy."

"The doctors have been giving you painkillers too," Natasha said. "A normal human wouldn't be able to take the dosage you're receiving right now."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Nearly a week now," Thor replied.

Natasha adjusted her woolen scarf. "Only medical personnel and the Avengers are allowed in your room. We have to come in with jackets, since it's so cold in here. You were suspended in liquid nitrogen for about three days before you could move to a hospital bed. Like Thor said, the healer from Asgard inspected you for a short time. Because you weren't conscious to drink the Firebreeze, the doctors had it pumped into you through an IV during hourly intervals."

"I see..." Loki struggled to lift his right hand. Skin covered it like a thin blue film; it was so new and translucent that he could see the muscles underneath.

"Try not to move for a while," Natasha said gently. "You need more time to recover your second layer of skin."

"How bad is it?"

Thor looked slightly uncomfortable. "You are healing quite steadily, thanks to the combined factors of your Jotun stamina and the Firebreeze. Still, you have sustained very serious wounds."

He didn't say anymore, and Natasha didn't speak up to add to his remarks.

Loki was growing impatient. "Do you have a mirror? I must see for myself."

Natasha, with an uneasy reluctance, held a mirror level to his face. At first he thought his eyes were bloodshot. Then he realized they were the natural red color of Jotun eyes. He was shirtless; the hospital light reflected off his bare, blue chest. To his embarrassment and horror, Loki noticed how little of his hair remained on his scalp.

He managed a wry, weak laugh. "I look awful."

"What matters is that you're alive," Natasha said firmly.

"Fear not, brother. You will be back to normal in time."

Loki's face painfully stretched when he tried to suppress a yawn. "I'm sorry...I feel so drowsy..."

Natasha pulled the blanket farther up to his chest. "Rest some more. You'll need it."

Before she left with Thor, Natasha dropped a gentle kiss on Loki's forehead. He closed his heavy eyelids and smiled. It felt like a drop of Firebreeze, soothing and pleasant.

* * *

The Avengers pampered him like a spoiled puppy since the day he woke up. He had never gotten so much attention before. It felt strange at first, then he came to appreciate their company and sentiments.

Steve had given Loki a handmade get-well card.

Bruce brought a Rubik's cube and a large book of Sudoku puzzles, to keep Loki active and occupied. Loki solved the Rubik's cube twice. The puzzle book was halfway filled with his weak yet steady handwriting.

After inspecting his tower and finding it surprisingly intact for the most part, Tony brought in various gadgets from his lab. Pepper would sometimes come in with lunch or dinner she had cooked, so Loki could get a reprieve from the usual hospital food.

Even Clint paid the occasional visit. The first time he came, he sat there awkwardly. After a period of silence, Clint extended a snapback cap to Loki.

"Here. To cover your head."

Loki nodded his thanks as the large hat fit comfortably on his almost naked head. With no more words to say, the S.H.I.E.L.D. archer made for the door.

"Barton."

"Yeah?"

"I haven't had the chance to say it until now...but thank you for saving my life."

"Where did you hear that from?"

"Everyone. I cannot express my gratitude enough."

Clint looked taken aback at seeing and hearing Loki's sincerity. He rubbed the back of his head modestly. "It's nothing, really." Then his face grew solemn. "You know...I've never seen Natasha so distraught. When we pulled you out of the bay, saw how messed up you were...she was so heartbroken."

Loki couldn't even imagine seeing for himself. He lowered his eyes and said softly, "Yes...I've heard her."

"I never want to see Nat like that again...so stay strong for her and me, all right?"

Loki met Clint's fierce gaze. "I promise."

Loki received a flood of letters and gifts from grateful citizens. Many children sent him badly drawn doodles, but he loved those most of all. It reminded him of his own drawings he had done as a child. He used to draw his family often; to him they were his heroes. Now it was his turn to be drawn as a hero.

However, Loki's heroic publicity also attracted many young women. They sent him large amounts of flattering gifts, including love letters and disturbingly accurate drawings of him. They proudly called themselves "Loki's Army."

Tony and Steve shared laughs when they found out about this.

"Looks like you got yourself some fangirls, Loki."

"Fangirls? I do not understand..."

"I think you have more than me!" Tony complained. "I'm actually jealous of you."

Steve smiled wryly when he thought about his fame during the 40's. "In my opinion, there's nothing to be jealous about."

Natasha knew about Loki's suddenly large fanbase, though she did not let it irk her. She knew that he only had eyes for her. While Loki always welcomed company, Natasha was clearly his favorite visitor. She brought nothing with her; just her presence was enough.

On February 9, 2013, The Avengers held a surprise birthday party for Loki in the hospital. Natasha and Steve had wheeled Loki out on his gurney. He looked quite surprised by the greeting. The Avengers kept him company throughout the night. Even Pepper, Coulson and Hill came over for a short time. The party ended with Loki dozing off into a peaceful sleep, surrounded by gifts and friends.

The next day after that was the beginning of Lunar New Year festivities, something Loki found out when old Ming surprised him with a visit.

The monk's orange robe was a stark contrast to the whiteness of Loki's room. "Your success from averting world destruction certainly calls for a celebration. According to the lunar calendar, today begins the year of the snake."

Loki cracked a smile. "Snakes? I am quite fond of them."

"I'm pleased to see that you are getting better. Here, I brought a little something for you. I hope you like sweets."

Ming brought out a small basket; through the transparent red wrapping, Loki could see an assortment of cakes and powdered candy. He also noticed a small red envelope, which depicted at the front a snake entwined among flowers and lanterns.

"This is beautiful..." Loki remarked. He opened it, and pulled out two hundred American dollars. His eyes widened. This was anything but little. "Oh Ming, you didn't have to..."

The monk smiled. "You deserve the gift. It's for good luck and prosperity for the new year."

"Is that so? One can never have too much luck." Loki thought of Natasha as he said this.

Shortly after Ming's departure, Natasha came into his room. Loki couldn't think of a better time for her to arrive.

Loki beamed at her. "Good afternoon, and happy new year."

Natasha looked skeptical. "But it's February 10th."

"Asian Midgardians follow the path of the moon, and today is the beginning of their new year."

Natasha took a seat at his bedside and glanced at the basket. "Hmm, that explains the gift. Who stopped by to see you?"

"A wise and good friend of mine. I wish you could meet him."

Loki reached for the red envelope and gave a bill to Natasha. "Here, we will split. I'd rather share my luck with you than keep it all to myself."

"A hundred dollars? No, I can't. It's your gift. You didn't have to-"

He winked. "That's exactly what I had said before." His voice took on a mock threatening tone. "You must keep it. Because if you give it back to me, I will rip it up."

She laughed. "In that case, it'll be better in my hands."

Then Loki smirked. "You know...this calls for a new year's kiss. You've introduced me to that little tradition back in January. I'm very eager for more."

Natasha obliged by leaning forward and locking lips with his. It was a slow and soft kiss, but filled with an overwhelming love and passion, that made them feel like they never wanted to break apart.

Yes, he felt very lucky indeed.

* * *

For the next few days, Loki was recovering nicely. His eyes softened from red to pink as the whites emerged. Despite the painkillers, Loki still felt like he was on fire...burnt raw, exposed and vulnerable. His new pink skin was as soft and delicate as a baby's. Overlapped with his Jotun skin, he appeared almost pinkish purple. For a while, Tony nicknamed him Barney.

Natasha had taken much longer to heal from her own wounds, and she envied him a bit for that. Nevertheless, his recovery was not without stress and excruciating pain. And he had done it all for her, if not the entire world.

When Loki was well enough to stand on his own feet, he was promptly given a proper award ceremony for everything he had done. The event was brief and private. The Avengers and every agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. were present to watch Loki receive his medal and initiation into the team. Even Odin was there, via telepathic form. Everyone's eyes were on Director Fury and Loki.

"Loki Laufeyson, do you swear to remain loyal to the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division at all costs?"

"I swear."

"Do you swear to protect Earth and its citizens, including its otherworldly allies?"

"I swear."

"And finally...do you swear to uphold integrity and justice?"

"I swear."

"Then on behalf of the United States government and myself, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, you are now an Avenger. Welcome to the team."

Applause rang out. Formality broke when Thor rushed forward and seized Loki into a tight embrace. The rest of the Avengers joined in. Even Fury cracked a smile as the team heartily congratulated the newest member.

For the first time since the ceremony, Odin spoke. "Forgive me for intervening on this occasion. But I would like to make an announcement that involves all of you."

"There's no need to apologize," Fury replied. "What is it you have to say?"

"It is the wish of the entire realm of Asgard, including myself, that we want to commemorate the Avengers. Not by mere words, but having a feast with your presence gracing our very halls."

A shocked silence fell over everyone. Steve was the first to reply. "All of us, going to Asgard?"

Thor's eyes lit up at the prospect of a grand feast. "Yes...most excellent, Father!"

The prospect of returning thrilled Loki. But only for a moment. Then doubt quickly settled into his thoughts.

'What if he still does not want me back? Most of Asgard still regards me as a war criminal.'

"Loki, I see the uncertainty in your eyes. You too are invited. In other words, you can return to Asgard."

He stiffened in shock. This was one of the few times he's rendered speechless. "Me? Allowed back? I...y-yes, I would be honored."

"Are we allowed to bring close acquaintances with us?" Thor inquired.

Odin nodded. "If that is what you wish. The palace is undergoing preparations as we speak. Of course, I do not want to force anyone against his or her will to go. Are there any objections?"

Bruce meekly raised his hand. "I'm not sure if a gathering like this would be a good idea for me."

Instant dissent from his teammates ensued.

"Come on, Bruce! It'll be fun!" Steve exclaimed.

Tony patted his shoulder. "Don't be the rain on our parade. Join us! You're part of the team."

"If the worst really does happen, I'm sure they have some kind of magic to hold back the Big Guy." Clint said.

"It won't be a proper celebration without you, fellow warrior." Thor said.

Finally, Bruce gave in with a grateful smile. "All right, I'll go. I'm sorry for being doubtful."

Then Coulson spoke up. "Director Fury, it's best if you go and represent S.H.I.E.L.D. After all, you were the one to assemble the Avengers." He turned to Odin. "I'm sorry, but I must decline. Agent Hill and I will stay here in the Director's place."

Fury nodded. "Very well, Agent Coulson. I trust that you and Agent Hill will effectively maintain S.H.I.E.L.D. operations while I'm gone."

Tony frowned. "Sorry you can't come with us, Phil. We'll bring back souveneirs, if you want."

Coulson grinned. "That would be nice. It's a real privilege for all of you to get a glimpse of worlds beyond our own."

"Has everyone else made up their minds?" Odin asked. "Then I will let the court know so they can hasten the preparations. The feast will begin in a few hours."

Steve was surprised. "You can get ready that quickly?"

"We are very efficient," Loki replied proudly. "We have held many a feast for various occasions. Though I must admit...it has been a long time since we've invited guests from Midgard."

Odin surveyed them with his one-eyed stare. "I look forward to seeing you personally. Farewell."

His projection disappeared, leaving everyone to talk among themselves.

Tony looked very excited. "I'm definitely bringing Pepper along."

"I will ask Jane, Darcy and Dr. Selvig if they want to accompany me," Thor said. "I'm sure they would be most pleased." He rose his voice to address his comrades. "After everyone is prepared, we should gather on the Helicarrier flight deck. From there, I can call Heimdall to summon the Bifrost. That will transport us to Asgard instantly."

Tony clapped his hands together. "Let's get ready and suit up, guys."

They dispersed quickly and eagerly. Loki followed Natasha home, of course. They took their time along the way, holding hands. Neither of their bodies were able to handle excess activities yet.

Natasha went to change and searched for the most elegant and formal dress.

"Loki, what color would be most appropriate for an Asgardian celebration?" she called out from her closet.

He pondered for a moment before answering. "Not black; it is for solemn occasions like funerals. And not red; we believe that women appear to lack fidelity in them. Gold, green or white would be best."

"All right, got it."

Loki waited patiently at the corner of her bed. Now that his magic was fully restored, he could conjure a change of clothes from Asgard just as easily as he had summoned his horse. Loki closed his eyes and visualized what he would pick from his own wardrobe. One of his nicest leather tunics replaced his Midgardian suit. He finished it off with a few plates of armor here and there. Nothing too ostentatious or flashy. He didn't feel like being encased in heavy armor anyway.

Loki heard the shower run. Feeling drowsy, he closed his eyes and laid down.

Loki woke up from his short nap when he heard the door click open. His breath hitched in his throat as Natasha emerged.

"I see you're dressed up already." Natasha glanced down. "I hope this is adequate."

"Adequate? Far from it. Natasha, you look so beautiful..." he murmured in awe.

The deep, dark green shade of her dress blew him away. It accentuated the color of her eyes and brought out the color of her fiery red hair. It started out as lacy at the top to smooth and flowing towards the bottom. For lack of better words for the moment, green looked damn fine on her.

Loki offered his arm and she gave him his. They teleported to the Helicarrier flight deck in an instant. The Avengers were assembled along with Fury, Pepper, Jane, Darcy and Dr. Selvig. The men, save for Thor in his Asgardian armor, wore tuxedoes. The women wore dresses of various types and colors.

Tony shot Loki and Natasha a sly glance. "I wonder what took you two so long."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "None of your business, Tony. And it's not what you think it is, anyway."

"Is everyone ready?" Thor asked.

They nodded in affirmation and gathered in a tight circle. Thor raised his head and cried out in a loud shout.

"Heimdall! Open up the Bifrost!"

An iridescent pillar of light descended from the sky and engulfed them. The powerful surge snatched them up. When the blinding white light faded, they found themselves in a circular golden room.

Tony's eyes were wide. "Whoa...that was pretty damn cool."

"Where are we?" Clint asked.

"This is the Observatory, where I keep watch on the border of Asgard."

Everyone turned to see Heimdall, whose quiet but deep voice resonated through the chamber. They circled the raised dais and made their way out. Heimdall pulled out his sword but remained in place.

"Not joining us for the feast, Gatekeeper?" Thor asked. "You are certainly free to come."

"I appreciate your offer, my prince. But my place is here. I must keep a vigilant watch at all times."

"Must be a very busy guy," Tony remarked.

"I could relate to him," Clint said.

Darcy's eyes were everywhere as she gawked at the overwhelming majesty of Asgard. Jane was more quiet about it, but she too had awe written all over her face.

They eventually met with a host of Asgardian guards, who would escort them to the palace. Along the way, Thor spoke up.

"My friends, I ask that you exercise dignity and formality in the palace, especially to Odin. Midgardian visitors are rare; my father has been gracious with extending an invitation to you all. So it is only natural to recuperate that with respect."

The Avengers nodded in understanding. Thor's stare had lingered on Tony the longest as he spoke. The billionaire crossed his heart. "Got it. I won't cause any trouble, I promise."

"So what do we do when the Allfather greets us?" Steve asked.

Thor briefly explained, and they were ready to make a procession into the palace. Bruce, Jane and Darcy looked somewhat unsettled by the sheer number of people. Steve, Tony and Clint couldn't help but feel underdressed compared to the armored Asgardian warriors. Loki suddenly felt self-conscious, and even a little nervous, as he approached the place he had called home.

'Odin may have permitted my return. But what if there are some who will react with hostility?'

To his relief, Loki received no harsh glares or whispers behind his back. In fact, he was getting quite the opposite. Thor's confident, proud stride hinted at his princedom. He was naturally at ease. And surprisingly, so was Natasha. She looked so graceful and regal, from her composed face down to the flow of her dress. If Loki hadn't known that she was from Midgard, he would've mistaken her to be of noble blood. He admired her for that.

When they arrived at the throne room, the guests from Earth got down on one knee and held their eyes to the ground. Thor and Loki remained standing and merely bowed at the waist.

Odin peered down, looking dignified and holding Gungnir as always. "Welcome home, Thor Odinson and Loki Laufeyson, princes of Asgard. And welcome to our honorable guests from Midgard: Nicholas Fury, Steve Rogers, Anthony Stark, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Erik Selvig, Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis."

Everyone looked surprised that each of them was addressed by name. Odin rose from his throne. "Come. I will direct you to the feast."

The people waited for Thor, Loki and their Midgardian comrades to follow Odin before trailing behind. They formed a massive procession to the dining hall.

"This is so wicked..." Darcy breathed.

Steve nodded his agreement. "I can't believe we're getting this kind of royal treatment. It's surreal."

What they saw next made their mouths drop. The biggest table they've ever seen, filled to the brim with every kind of food and drink imaginable, stretched out before them. Tall, golden chairs lined every side, with the most decorated ones reserved for Odin and his family.

Guards were available to move them in for the guests. On one side closest to Thor's family was Loki and the Avengers. On the other was Sif and the Warriors Three. As soon as things settled down, Odin stood up and raised his glass full of mead.

"Before we begin, let us drink to Loki's triumph over Surtur of Muspelheim. It will be remembered for generations to come. And let us not forget the comrades of Thor and Loki, nor their brave deed of protecting Midgard from the Chitauri."

The guests felt humbled by the loud applause they received. Everyone raised their glasses and echoed Odin's sentiments with loud cheers. Most Asgardians, including Thor and Loki, downed their drinks in one gulp. The guests, however, found the mead very strong. Even Tony took a tentative sip. The food was rich and immensely satisfying. On top of that, Sif and the Warriors were excited to meet Thor's friends from Midgard. Still getting used to being in Asgard, Loki mostly kept to himself. His tension began to slip away the more he talked with the people around him.

Thor rose to sing the Asgardian anthem. Everyone in the court joined in with gusto. As someone who extensively studied linguistics and spoke many languages, Natasha noticed that Asgardian sounded very much like Icelandic. After that, people would take turns to stand up and sing their own songs. This entertained the diners as they ate and drank. Thor eventually got Steve to sing the United States national anthem. Everyone could hear the pride and years of experience in his voice.

Then the God of Thunder proceeded to put Natasha on the spot. "Come, Natasha! Sing to us the song of your people!"

Her teammates yelled their encouragement. She politely declined several times. Loki winked at her.

"I know how beautifully you can sing."

She hid her blush and finally gave in.

_"Rossiya, sviashennaya nasha derzhava,_  
_Rossiya, lubimaya nasha strana!"_

The Avengers were taken aback, and the Asgardians were impressed with how well she could sing. When she finished, Natasha received a boisterous standing ovation.

Thor clapped Steve on the back. "Tell me more about your anthem, Captain. It sounds very much like a war song, a tale."

"Well, it started out as a poem by Francis Scott Key, during the American Revolution against the British..."

Tony and Volstagg had a drinking contest, to determine who could guzzle down the most mead. It ended as a draw, because Tony claimed he had to try other food before he got full, and Volstagg wanted to stop so he could clean the foamy mess all over his beard.

Loki watched with barely contained disgust while Natasha suppressed laughter.

"Ah, this must be the woman Odin has been talking about."

Loki and Natasha looked up to see a beautiful, statuesque woman approaching them. Her silky blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders. Her dark blue eyes carefully surveyed Natasha as she curtsied.

"I've been anxious to meet her. I am Freyja of Vanaheim. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Natasha rose and returned the action. "Natasha Romanoff of Midgard."

Loki was glad to see that she was catching on to their customs quickly.

"When I had heard about a woman as fierce as Lady Sif and beautiful as myself...I was unsatiably curious." Freyja glanced between the two. "I must say, Lady Natasha...I sincerely commend you. It is hard for Loki to get along with anyone, let alone a Midgardian."

"People change," Loki replied mildly.

"Of course. I certainly do not deny your selfless and heroic deed in slaying Surtur." Freyja curtsied again. "Forgive me for keeping you from your dinner. Enjoy the rest of your night."

Once Freyja was out of earshot, Loki and Natasha sat back down. Natasha's eyes followed Freyja, who returned to her seat next to a lean, handsome man with the same blonde hair.

As they resumed eating, Natasha turned to Loki. "She said she was from Vanaheim. Does that mean she's not Asgardian?"

"Yes. She is a Vanir," he replied. "Her father Njord is the ruler of Vanaheim, and her twin brother Freyr is the heir. The Vanir waged war with us many years ago and lost. Freyr and Freyja, children at the time, were sent here as hostages to discourage any further rebellion. They've been living in Asgard since."

"How have they been handling that?"

Loki shrugged. "At first glance, they may not look or act any different from us. Vanaheim is more of a state than a true, independent realm. It has been relying on Asgard's military strength for many years. In return, they've had their trade routes open to exchange Vanir-exclusive goods. Here in Asgard, we highly value their silk, wool, satin...anything you could possibly wear apart from armor."

Natasha took a sip of mead, which she was getting used to. "So it was a win-win situation. Then why did they decide to break the truce with war?"

Loki narrowed his eyes. "The Vanir wanted to prove that they were strong and worthy enough to stand on their own. Njord had attempted many times for Vanaheim to be annexed. But Odin would not have it. The Vanir grew rebellious, and war broke out. Fortunately it was short-lived; they knew almost nothing about effective warfare." Loki rubbed his head. "I'm sorry. Are you at a loss from all this otherworldly history?"

"No, I understand. I've grown up with political turmoil all my life. It's fascinating to hear."

"Good. I'm glad we share yet another interest." Loki broke a loaf of bread and shared it with Natasha. "Fertility and beauty are the Vanirs' top priority. They are rather infamous for producing many children in a short period of time...and often starting as soon as they come of age."

Loki glanced at Freyja, who sat next to Freyr. "By Vanir standards, Freyja should have had children a long time ago."

"Couldn't she just marry someone among Asgardian royalty, if she has access and freedom among the court?"

Loki shook his head in disdain. "For all their lack of power, the Vanir hold fast to superficial rules. It is forbidden for them to marry and procreate outside their own race."

"So they could keep their bloodlines pure."

"Exactly. There is no other Vanir besides Freyr to keep Freyja company among the Asgardians." Loki lowered his voice. "Rumor has it that Freyr and Freyja have an incestuous relationship."

Her first impulse was a quick glance at the Vanir siblings. But she refrained and kept her eyes down as she finished her glass.

"As a former victim of many rumors, I'm not keen on spreading it maliciously. But after growing up with them for many years, I strongly suspect that the Vanir twins have crossed the line at some point."

"Does Odin know?"

"He never publicized any misgivings, but he did take precautions. He made them live in separate halls even to this day. But knowing Freyr and Freyja, like all Vanir, they are stubborn and refuse to submit. It's strange, though...despite their frequent, er...frivolous activities, Freyja still has not birthed any children."

Loki's last sentence reminded Natasha of her own life. She had earned the name Black Widow for her talent in seducing men.

He caught the change of expression on her face. "I would not invest all your sympathy on the likes of Freyja. You have to watch your back around her."

He did not mention that Freyja had made several advances on him. Now that Natasha came into his life as a significant other, he warily wondered if Freyja would continue her futile, unnecessary efforts.

After dining came the dancing. By that time, Tony was sober enough to dance with Pepper. Loki and Natasha also waltzed around the ballroom. Years of experience made their dance fluid, natural and effortless. They exchanged with Thor and Jane a few times. Natasha even danced with Clint for a bit. Those not dancing were either watching or in deep conversation among themselves. Fury and Odin were discussing negotiations for the two realms. Dr. Selvig animatedly talked to the Warriors Three, expressing his enthusiasm for the reality that he once thought were childhood stories all his life. Darcy flitted around the ballroom, dancing here and there with different men. She finally settled with Fandral. They danced and laughed at the fact each found a suitable partner. Bruce remained sitting, content with watching his friends having a good time. Steve was naturally being the chivalrous gentleman, approaching young women without partners and offering to have a dance.

When Loki returned to the table, Queen Frigga greeted him with a tight hug and a kiss.

"Welcome home, Loki. I've missed you."

"As I have for you, Mother."

He swore he felt his heart melt at feeling her love. The festivities continued even as Loki began to grow tired and needing sleep. He excused himself and made for his bedchamber. The guests from Earth were given their own beds to stay in for the night. He figured they would really enjoy the hospitality, since even the guestrooms seemed fit for kings. He caught sight of Natasha down the corridor. She met his gaze, stopped and smiled.

"Hey Loki. Are you going to bed?"

"Yes. Now I want some peace and quiet after all that partying."

"I'm curious; may I come to your bedroom before I go to my own?"

"Of course. Follow me."

For some peculiar reason, he felt a little excited that he was about to show her his room. It would be like sharing with her a part of his world. When they approached his door, Loki let her in first. Her gaze swept the room, noting how clean and polished it was. Her eyes settled on his desk, which was piled with many books and stray sheets of paper. Loki prickled in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry for the mess. It has been a long time since I've been back."

"No, this isn't messy at all. Trust me, I've seen worst...namely every living space belonging to Tony. You have a very nice room."

Loki managed a small smile. "Thank you."

Natasha settled onto his bed. Seeing her in that form-fitting dress, her hair and skin beautifully illuminated by the moonlight, and sitting on his bed aroused him. He had an urge to kiss her right there and then, letting his passion unfurl to ravish her and fill her with his love. He suppressed his carnal desire as quickly as it sprang to his mind.

'Stop it,' he scolded himself. 'If you keep thinking like that, you would be no better than Freyja.'

Loki sat next to her, facing the window that allowed them a spectacular view of the Asgardian nightscape.

"How do you like it here so far?" he asked softly.

"Beyond...my wildest dreams. It's such a beautiful place; there's so much light everywhere, even in the middle of the night." she turned to him, and he felt like he could fall into the depths of her green eyes. "But Asgard alone wouldn't feel as wonderful as being here with you."

Pure happiness glowed bright in his eyes. His voice was low and soft, just as the night was still. "I've been here for as long as I can remember, almost all my life. But with you here, I feel so complete now. I feel like I am truly home."

Loki leaned against Natasha and brushed his lips across her pale neck. She tilted his head up with her fingers and kissed him. His arms snaked around her waist, gripping her firmly by the waist as they softly fell into bed together. Her skin against his felt electrifying. He made a trail of slow, fluttering kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. Natasha leaned back and a soft moan escaped her mouth. She ran her fingers through locks of his short black hair. He felt stiff and heavy between his legs. Love for her coursed through his body, making him feel hot and numb at once. Loki stopped kissing her and held her close to his chest. Her pale skin was flushed pink, her eyes dark and dilated with desire. Loki was tempted to fuel that flame. Then he seemed to control herself, and planted one last kiss on her lips before relinquishing his hold on her.

"I will...um, let you retire to your bedchamber now."

Natasha suppressed her blush and composed herself as well. A small smile graced her lips. "Yeah...I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you for an enjoyable night."

She departed without a sound, leaving Loki to fall into the most pleasant and soothing sleep he hadn't experience in a long time.

'No...thank _you_, Natasha. You've made my homecoming all the more wonderful.'

* * *

_Yes, Loki totally cockblocked himself. Loki'd! As all BlackFrost fics have some element of spiciness to them, I felt this story too would lead to the inevitable. But I wanted to handle the hotness without making it too risque, if that makes sense._

_Happy birthday, Tom Hiddleston! Right after that is Vietnamese New Year! I love celebrating the new year twice. ;) Time to spend some of that lucky moolah on anime box sets! :D_


	19. A World of Decisions

_Almost 3 months...wow. I'm so sorry for the delay! Hope you enjoy after a long wait._

* * *

**Chelsea Grin (19)**  
**A World of Decisions**

**"The sky greets those who fly**  
**I don't fear being controlled**  
**The dazzling brightness that I aspire for is to change everything."**  
**~D. Gray-man, "Doubt and Trust" by Access**

To Loki, nothing felt better than waking up in his own bed.

"It's been a long time," he murmured to himself.

He stirred in content, taking delight in the pillow and sheets that enveloped him. The sunlight through his window felt warm and pleasant on his face. Normally he hated waking up to the sun in his eyes. But after enduring a harsh, fiery battle with Surtur, Loki welcomed the reminder of feeling alive and waking up to the next day.

He would have remained in bed a bit longer if he hadn't remembered there were guests. He promptly got ready for the day, hoping he didn't sleep long enough for Thor to wake up first. When Loki emerged from his room and walked down the hallway, he didn't hear anyone else present. Only the echoes of his footsteps could be heard.

Loki was an early bird. Thor and the Warriors Three came in shortly. The Avengers arrived a few minutes later. They had changed out of their previous clothes into the customary leather and metal attire of Asgard. Bruce looked the most uncomfortable. He was used to lab coats and loose clothes convenient for his drastic body changes. Clint preferred to wear clothes without sleeves, though he cut a fine figure in Asgardian leather. Tony looked like a trimmed down Iron Man, not minding the metal at all. Fury looked rather imposing, almost like a second Heimdall.

"Good morning, Avengers!" Volstagg exclaimed cheerfully. "Oh, and to your friends as well."

Tony tipped his head. "Morning to you, Warriors Three. Mind if I call you Bruce Lee, Santa Claus and Wonder Woman from now on?"

The large red-haired man chortled. "What strange names. But no, I do not mind."

Hogun and Sif didn't look very amused.

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He gives nicknames to everyone."

Natasha exchanged a smile with Loki as she sat down. His heart fluttered when he remembered last night. He hoped that the warmth of his pale cheeks didn't give away what he felt.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked her.

She nodded with a content smile. "The best sleep I've had in a while. I'm not one for luxury, but it did feel very good."

"I'm glad to hear that. You deserve only the best, Natasha."

He reached out to squeeze her hand. For a moment, he feared that everyone noticed the gesture. But they had their eyes on the food instead.

Tony gaped at the amount of it set on the table. "This is our breakfast? I'm still full from last night!"

Volstagg's belly shook as he laughed. "We always want to be generous to our guests. But if you say it is too much, I will gladly relieve you of your burden."

Tony helped himself to a generous helping of poached eggs. "It's okay. This stuff is great."

While everyone started to eat, Fury spoke up. "I've talked to the Allfather late last night. We can stay for as long as a week. But if you want to go home earlier than that, the Bifrost is open."

"Go home? I want to stay here forever..." Darcy murmured dreamily.

"Thanks for letting us know, sir. But it would be great to stay for the whole week," Steve said.

Fandral turned to Clint. "It might interest you that there will be a realm-wide archery contest today. 'Tis only an event of fun and games. No elaborate ceremony of the sort. Thor told me that your skill with the bow and arrow is unmatched. Care to join me this afternoon?"

Clint's lips turned up in a small smile. "I would love that."

"We would love to see Birdbrain give it a shot."

Tony grinned widely at the unintentional pun he just made. Pepper rolled her eyes again.

After breakfast, there was time to kill. The contest wouldn't start until noon. That left the Avengers and their friends to explore Asgard some more. Tony and Pepper left for the armory. Steve went to spar with some Asgardian men at one of many courtyards. At Loki's suggestion, Bruce headed for the palace library to read on science seen through Asgardian eyes. Fandral and Darcy walked down the halls together. Thor and Jane had something important to discuss with Queen Frigga. Loki wanted to show Natasha the palace garden.

He didn't say much as he led her through. He let the flowers, trees and all manner of botanical life speak for themselves. Natasha had never seen so much color in her life. It was like a rainforest without the humidity, dirtiness, diseases and dangerous animals. Though she couldn't recognize many of the fauna, she thought them vibrant and beautiful all the same.

A pair of doves cooed overhead. Natasha watched in amazement as some flame-colored flowers unfurled and swayed to the birdsong. The petals pulsated as if on fire. Or alive. After a few minutes, the doves left. The flowers closed up and tilted towards the soil, as if saddened by the birds' departure.

They kept walking. Then Loki stopped under a large tree and looked up.

"Do you have star fruit in Midgard, Natasha?" he asked.

She shook her head.

Loki reached out for the lowest branch to pluck a couple of fruit that looked, unsurprisingly, like stars. He handed one to her and bit into the other.

"They're ripe at this time of year. Try one."

She looked at it for a moment. The star fruit was yellow, soft in her hands. Natasha bit into it and her eyes lit up. It tasted like a blend of pineapple and mango, without the pineapple's fibrous texture or a sharp, peculiar taste mangoes sometimes had. It tasted as if the best of the two were smoothly brought together.

"This is very good," she remarked.

"It's one of my favorite things to eat. Well, most of the things I eat tend to be fruits and vegetables."

Loki sat down on a marble bench and Natasha took her place next to him. He stared off musingly as he ate.

"It's strange...considering that a Jotun's diet consists of exclusively meat. Jotunheim is such a cold, barren place. Nothing green ever grows there. The only things that sustain Jotuns are animals that lurk in the darkness and ice." He shrugged. "Then again, I am not like most Frost Giants. Along with my unusually small size, perhaps it's not a surprise that I've developed a liking for eating greens. I was raised in Asgard, after all."

Loki plucked a leaf from the star fruit's stem. He gazed at it between his fingers. "I can't imagine chewing on meat all my life, or growing up not knowing what the color green looks like. That is why I'm grateful for this garden."

"Not only that, but Thor and I used to play here. We were very small, boys not yet ready for the sword or the world outside of the palace walls." Loki remembered something, and he chuckled at the memory. "Thor would make good use of rotten or overripe fruit. He liked to set them on fire and fling them away, and call them 'shooting star fruit.'"

"I thought that setting things on fire was more of your thing," Natasha joked.

"Well, I _did_ come up with a smarter way of sticking the fruit on an arrow BEFORE lighting and shooting it."

Loki was pleased to hear her laugh at his wit. When he shifted his gaze to Natasha, he found that he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

As she was finishing her fruit down to the core, a drop of gold-colored juice trickled down her lip. Her tongue flicked out to catch it. Loki found that oddly attractive. Then he realized with embarrassment that he had his eyes on her for a bit too long. His gaze darted down and he fidgeted the core of the fruit in his hands.

"Loki?"

"Yes, Natasha?"

He looked up at her. She had a questioning expression on her face.

"Now that you've beaten Surtur, recovered and returned home, what will you do next?"

Her question made him hesitate. He never considered what he would do after so much had gone through his life lately. Now he wasn't certain.

"I...I don't know," he finally said. "I am just glad I've made it this far. And I couldn't have done it without you, Natasha."

"And if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here either."

"We've come a long way. It seems almost silly...to think that I had utterly despised you at first sight. But at the same time, I felt the closest to you out of every human being in Midgard. In those few moments of us in a battle of wits, with only the glass of a cage separating us...I felt closer to you than I have with the man I've called my brother all my life."

Natasha bit her lip. She didn't say it, but she felt the same about Clint. They've been close friends for a long time. But the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents never quite shared a level of closeness that she and Loki had.

Loki continued to mull over Natasha's question. He had been healed and redeemed...so why did he not feel a sense of closure? His thoughts flitted to Thor and Jane. The two were likely talking with Odin about marriage. His intuition was rarely wrong. With Thor to succeed Odin's throne, and Jane as his consort and future queen, there was no place for Loki. There could only be one king.

The bitterness of it didn't hit him as strongly as it used to. Perhaps it was something he had come to accept.

Loki snapped out of his reverie when a fanfare of trumpets could be heard in the distance.

"Sounds like the contest is about to begin."

Loki offered his hand. Once Natasha took it, she and Loki teleported instantly to a large arena. Asgardians of all classes gathered in the spectators' ring. A few Asgardian contestants, including Fandral and Clint, were scattered all over the arena to warm up. Natasha tried to wave at Clint, but he was too far away to notice. Loki caught sight of Thor waving at him from several aisles away. People parted to make way for the returned prince and Natasha. The couple sat between Thor and Tony.

"Hey, what took you guys so long? Making out like horny teenagers?"

"Can it, Tin Man."

Natasha's reply was smooth but without malice. Tony knew this, and he laughed it off.

"Hmm, looks like we're in time to see the White Elves," Loki remarked.

Natasha had never seen more beautiful, graceful beings in her life. Their pale skin seemed to glow under the sun. Their pointed ears complemented their grace. She could hardly tell males from females, since both had long blonde hair. They seemed almost unreal, as they glided across the arena in their ghostly robes. Contestants wore leather gauntlets and had curved bows tucked at their shoulders. The heralds bore long banners, the sigil of a white stallion billowing in the wind. They reminded her of the elves from _Lord of the Rings_. Indeed, Loki swore Tolkien might've met the White Elves himself as he wrote his trilogy.

"Who's at the front?" Natasha asked Loki.

She indicated the White Elf taller and more regal than the rest. He appeared to be a handsome man with a long face and solemn features, perhaps in his mid-thirties if he was a mortal. But Natasha knew that he was likely much older than he looked. A crown of silver leaves adorned his head. The white stallion emblazoned on the torso of his silver armor looked as if it reared up against a grey storm.

"That is Sannleikur, leader of the White Elves and ruler of Aflheim." Loki didn't miss the bow at the Elf's shoulder. "Looks like he's competing as well. I'm not surprised. His marksmanship is excellent."

"Are there different kinds of Elves?"

He nodded. "There are Dark Elves from Svaltafar. However, they are no longer our allies. We would not want them here ever again."

The disgust was apparent in his voice, so Natasha didn't press on.

Tony looked around. "Why aren't the Dwarves here? I read somewhere that they have a place around-"

Loki and Thor burst out with laughter. Thor laughed so hard that tears dotted the corners of his eyes. Even the Asgardians behind and in front chuckled from what they overheard.

"The day those short-in-temper and short-in-size brutes could properly shoot an arrow would be a frightful one!" Thor exclaimed.

Tony flushed with embarrassment. "I guess they aren't coming."

"Unlike the White Elves, the Dwarves of Nidavellir are not our allies," Loki said. "Even if they were, their poor sportsmanship and even less grace is enough to discourage us from sending an invitation."

"Hey, they're about to start," Bruce called.

The Asgardians, White Elves and one Midgardian lined up, going in sequential order to fire their shots. The targets were a considerable distance away, though normal for Asgardian standards and moderately easy to White Elvish eyes. Needless to say, Clint seemed to adjust to the Asgardian bow and arrows quickly.

Loki looked on with grudging admiration as the contest continued. He would not forget the S.H.I.E.L.D. archer's impeccable precision that had thwarted him during the Chitauri invasion. Nothing had ever wiped the smug look off his face as quickly as a detonating arrow. Clint was doing impressively well against the White Elves, who were reputed to craft the best bows and possess the finest vision of all beings in the Nine Realms.

After many close shots, Clint finished in third place, behind Sannleikur and his son, Sannred. Nevertheless he earned the respect of many, including fellow competitors. Sannleikur looked pleased as he shook Clint's hand.

"It was a great pleasure and honor to compete with you, Clint Barton. I feared that handling a bow and shooting an arrow became a lost art on Midgard. You have proved us wrong."

Clint wasn't one for eloquent or formal words. He simply returned Sannleikur's compliment with a modest bow.

Fandral also came forward to congratulate him. "I have to say that I am utterly amazed! And a little envious, in fact." he added with a laugh.

Clint rubbed the back of his head. "The Olympics back home won't let me participate. Even if I could, S.H.I.E.L.D. won't allow it because my confidentiality would be compromised. So I'm glad I got to take part in today's contest. I had a lot of fun."

Loki followed behind Natasha as she descended the stairs to reach Clint. He couldn't help but feel wary as Natasha praised her fellow agent with a smile.

'She is only congratulating him,' he berated himself. 'Nothing more. Don't let the green beast of envy get the better of you, Loki.'

The God of Mischief snapped out of his thoughts when Sannleikur approached him. The White Elf leader acknowledged him with a respectful nod. His expression was smooth and unreadable. "Prince Loki. I have heard of your past crimes. I have heard of your more recent heroic deeds as well. I commend you for defeating that monster Surtur." Then his voice lowered to almost a confidential whisper. "Is it true that you have come back from the dead?"

Loki tensed. "What makes you say that, Sannleikur?"

"I have heard from some of my best oracles, those gifted with the power of seeing beyond the present and self. Few souls fly to Valhalla, and even fewer return."

His grey eyes shifted to Natasha, his gaze scrutinizing but not condemning. Their eyes met for a second before Sannleikur turned back to Loki. "The mortal woman has more power than she realizes. I sense untapped potential. Given time, she might become a force to be reckoned."

Suddenly, he remembered the mysterious black-haired woman that had appeared to him.

"If you knew that I almost went to Valhalla, surely you must know about the woman who guided me back to life. She is not red-haired like the one with me, but black-haired and young...perhaps an adolescent."

His hopes were dashed when Sannleikur replied, "I'm sorry, but I know nothing about this young woman you mention."

"Then...what did your oracles see?"

"I must correct myself. I did not mean seeing through eyes or physical vision. They sensed a disturbance in the flow of the universe upon your death. From the past or the future, they are not certain. With the wounds you sustained from the battle with Surtur, your soul should have departed from your body to enter the afterlife. But something, or someone as you've suggested, halted the course of fate. You did not die, so you could keep living." Sannleikur's gaze was ambivalent. "Perhaps it was not your time yet. Perhaps you are destined for something greater...greater than even a hero's death."

The ruler of Aflheim bid Loki farewell with a bow before joining his wife and son. Loki didn't know what to make of the White Elf's cryptic statements.

'Something or someone not from the present? No, I'm certain that it's someone...that girl. But I don't know who she is. Or why she would help me.'

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He looked up to see Natasha rejoin him at his side.

"What did that Elf say to you?"

"He is...very perceptive."

"Is he a friend of yours?"

"More of an acquaintance. Though they are not hostile to us, the White Elves are very firm about being neutral during times of war. They hate violence and battle. They prefer to keep as far away from any conflicts as much as possible."

He wondered how many Elves knew as much as their leader. He didn't want to stick around to find out. Sannleikur's message didn't shed much light, only more confusion on Loki's part. His head started to hurt the more he thought about it. He needed a distraction.

Loki took Natasha by the hand and led her away from the arena. "Come with me. There's something I want to show you."

The couple teleported again, and found themselves at the palace stables. The first horse Natasha saw was broad and tall, with a coat as golden as the sun. It glanced at the two arrivals before looking on indifferently and minding its own business.

"That is Strykur, Thor's horse." Loki said.

Natasha followed him until he stopped at the far end of the stable.

Then her eyes lit with recognition. "That horse...I saw you ride him before."

"Yes. This is my steed, Draugur. I think it's about time he would be on good terms with someone besides myself."

The black stallion whickered, more wary than curious. She noticed that his eyes were unusually narrow for a horse. Loki patted his muzzle.

"Draugur, this is Natasha. She is very close to me, and I trust her with my life. She saved me, in fact."

Natasha blushed at the compliment. Loki grinned at her. "Go on. When I'm around, I promise he won't hurt you."

Natasha carefully stretched out her hand. Draugur's nostrils flared as he sniffed her fingers. She almost jumped when he loudly snorted from the foreign scent. But he did not bite. Natasha remained still, her hand open in the air. Draugur brought his head forward and let her hand rest on it. A smile grew on her face as she stroked his muzzle. The horse closed his eyes and swished his tail in content.

Loki laughed. "This is wonderful. He likes you."

"I'm glad."

"He has been a friend of mine for a long time." His face held a wistful expression. "Ever since I was a child and first broke him, we would ride among the meadows, glens, riverbanks...anywhere away from our problems."

Loki began strapping on the saddle and reins to his horse. "And right now, a ride outside sounds promising. Would you like to come with me?"

Natasha suddenly felt uncertain. "I don't know, Loki...I've never been on a horse before."

She watched as he adjusted all the straps and buckles with experienced ease.

"It's as simple as...oh, I don't know...driving a car, I suppose." Loki shrugged. "Even easier than that, I would argue. It's a matter of trust between the horse and the rider. No need to fuss over countless buttons and knobs like you would with a car."

"Easy for you to say. You've been riding horses all your life."

He went behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "It will be all right," he murmured. "I'll teach you."

Loki pulled back his arms to hold her sides. He hoisted her up onto Draugur's back with little effort. She sat in sidesaddle fashion, both legs over one side. Loki smoothly slid into the saddle behind her. His hands rested over Natasha's as they held the reins together.

"Now lean back gently against me and keep your legs firm," he gently instructed. "Yes, that's it. Leaning forward tells the horse to pick up speed. Are you comfortable? The saddle's not hurting you?"

"I'm fine."

Natasha glanced down. She didn't expect to be this far from the ground on horseback.

'Why am I so nervous? I've piloted Quinjets and been on the Helicarrier countless times.' She thought about how fast Draugur had been during the fight against Surtur. 'This is different,' she realized. 'I'm used to being on machines, not an animal.'

Despite her pounding heart, Natasha felt comforted by Loki's presence.

"We'll take it nice and slow, Draugur. Natasha is still recovering, and we would not want a rough ride to injure her."

The horse tossed his head, almost like a nod in response. Natasha felt less unsure when she thought of how smart Draugur was. Just like his master.

They rode out of the stable in a slow, steady trot. Natasha's doubt quickly faded. This felt idyllic, dreamy...almost ridiculous. Like it was unreal. Like she was part of a fairy tale. Then again, she really was smack dab in Norse mythology come true.

Loki had Draugur stop on a hilltop, underneath the shade of a large and ancient tree. He helped Natasha down, and Draugur moved away to graze. He was glad that they arrived in good time and at a good spot. Sunsets in Asgard were legendary. The division of day and night, and a blend of all colors imaginable, permeated the sky. Every sun, moon and realm appeared in equal splendor. The metallic quality of Asgardian buildings reflected and enhanced the sight.

"This...this is beyond my wildest dreams. Forgive my lack of originality, but it's just so...magical."

Loki softly laughed. "I would say the same, my dear Natasha." He had swelled with pride at her remark. He was showing her his world, after all. Even if it wasn't truly his.

A strange feeling stirred inside Loki the more he gazed at the sky. He was never a part of Asgard. He came to accept that. Now he felt as if he was drawn by some unseen force, pulling him away from Asgard. But to where? Loki's chest tightened as his eyes fell upon a particular sphere in the heavens. A ball of ice glowing in the wash of an emerging darkness. Jotunheim was waiting for him. Not only that; it was calling to him.

"Loki? Are you okay?"

He snapped out of his stupor and glanced down at Natasha. She had been observing his pensive silence. Now she looked up at him curiously.

"Is something wrong?"

He smiled. "No, I'm fine."

When the suns disappeared under the horizon, Loki and Natasha rode back to the palace. They arrived at the stables by nightfall.

Loki rewarded his horse with a generous helping of oats and carrots. "Now you can boast that you are the only other person able to ride Draugur. He is quite hard to please and get along with."

He stowed away the straps and saddles. He gave Draugur one last pat on the muzzle, then slipped an arm around Natasha's waist. "Now it is our turn to get dinner."

The couple came back just in time. Loki was glad that the White Elves didn't join them for supper. Sannleikur couldn't be away from his realm for long, so he and his brethren probably left Asgard as soon as the contest was over. The Avengers and their friends were seated with the Warriors Three, though Odin was nowhere in sight. That didn't surprise Loki; the king of Asgard was a busy man and did not have the time nor need to casually enjoy a feast. He decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

Loki turned to Natasha with an apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry, but you will have to go on without me. I must talk with the Allfather about something very important. I hope to join you for dinner later."

She nodded in understanding. She certainly wasn't the clingy type who had to be with her man all the time. Loki gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving. He found Odin in his bedchambers, more specifically the balcony, where he gazed off into the sunset-streaked sky. The king of Asgard did not seem busy. Perhaps...

"You are not hungry, Allfather?"

Odin continued to stare off into the sunset. "I think it best that the Avengers dine comfortably in my absence. It seems that I intimidate them."

"On the contrary, they are very grateful for your hospitality. They also say that Thor is like you."

"That is good news. Perhaps he has grown wiser and stronger."

"Yes..." Loki said with a strange reluctance.

"And so have you. I did not forget."

Loki didn't know what to say. He was not sure whether to thank him or deny him. So he remained silent.

Odin finally turned to meet Loki's gaze with his single, sagely eye. "Something is on your mind, my son. I could sense it."

It was more of a statement than a question. Loki felt warmth in his chest upon being addressed as the Allfather's son.

"I...I've been thinking. After the defeat of Surtur, my return to Asgard...what awaits me next? In an attempt to answer that question, I finally turned to the one thing I've been avoiding for the longest time. Jotunheim. It is my true home. And the Jotun. They are my true kin. They are a wretched race, and even more so now that their king is gone." Loki looked down guiltily. "I must answer for my crimes. I've learned the hard way that I cannot run from them forever. I had attempted to destroy Jotunheim using the Bifrost...and before that, I murdered Laufey. Was I right to do such a thing?"

Odin didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then he replied, "I know he is your true father. But you did the right thing to take action at that time. He was poised to kill me while I lay vulnerable in my sleep. If it were not for his death, Laufey would have wreaked havoc upon Asgard and continued his iron grip on Jotunheim."

"Iron grip? Laufey was a tyrant?"

Odin nodded grimly. "The Jotuns never forgot the day their Casket was taken away. Laufey certainly did not. Hatred towards me and Asgard burned in his cold heart. It kept him alive. For years he was bent on revenge, using the period of mutual truce to prepare the Frost Giants for another war. So strong was his bloodlust that he did not care for the wellbeing of his people. The Jotun civilization further declined. They lost knowledge of their own written language, in place of learning the art of war."

"The Frost Giants used to have a written language...?"

There was more to his kind than Loki had thought. The notion of them being formerly civilized seemed strange. Perhaps he will find out even more when he travels to Jotunheim.

"You are not going there for the sole purpose of apologizing, am I correct?"

Loki hesitated for a second, then he nodded. He wasn't surprised that Odin could read him like an open book. He glanced down at his hand and closed it into a fist. "...I will make a claim for the Jotun throne."

He expected Odin to rebuke him, or discourage him from taking on such a risky ambition. But the Allfather said nothing. He merely waited for Loki to say more.

"I am the only one directly in line to succeed Laufey. Deep in my heart...I feel that it is something I must do."

"When do you plan to depart?" Odin asked.

"Certainly not right away. The last thing I want is to rush in recklessly and without caution. Perhaps after a few days on Asgard. I'll need to be prepared for negotiations, and a proper defense in case things do not turn out as planned."

Odin seemed to gaze at him with approval. "You think before you act. That is the first sign of a good future king."

Loki took that as permission granted for his decision. He felt approved, and grateful towards the Allfather. He nodded his thanks and excused himself to return to the dining room. When he came back, everyone asked for his previous whereabouts but didn't press on. Loki tried to carry a conversation as they had dinner together. But Natasha could tell that something big was on his mind. Her intuition proved correct when he told her in the privacy of his room after dinner.

He let out a slow breath before he met her eyes and spoke. "Natasha...I've thought about what you asked me. And I have made a decision that might as well change my life forever or end it. I must go to Jotunheim."

That didn't take her completely by surprise. He looked a little relieved that she wasn't completely traumatized. She almost forgot that Loki wasn't just any Frost Giant. He was the son of Jotunheim's late king, the next one in line. This was only the natural step he would have to take. A big, risky one at that.

"You're going to negotiate? Alone? Do you plan to tell Thor?"

Loki cringed at the unpleasant memory. "Last time we were there, it was nothing short of a disaster. Thor, Sif, the Warriors Three and I arrived as trespassers. Laufey tentatively granted us pardon. Then Thor rushed into battle, making the rest of us fight for our lives while he had his fun. We might have perished if Odin had not turned up in time. Thor's recklessness and irresponsibility got him banished from Asgard."

Natasha nodded. "I see. So that's how Thor ended up in New Mexico."

Loki sighed. "I cannot let him come with me. This is something I must do myself. I can only hope that the Jotuns will hear what I have to say."

Natasha leaned forward and placed both hands on his cheeks. "I won't hold you back. Just be careful," she said softly.

Loki kissed her lips tenderly and pulled back with a grateful smile. "I knew you could trust me. Whatever it takes, I will do everything in my power to succeed and return to you."

* * *

_Originally this chapter was going to cover Loki's time in Jotunheim, but I moved that to the next one._

_Sannleikur is pronounced "SAHN-lay-kurr." It means "truth" in Icelandic._

_I apologize again for being such a slow updater. Fanfic writing isn't a high priority right now, but I always enjoy it. :)_

_This April has been so crazy. My prayers go out to those who died or suffered from the Boston Marathon bombings. I've been to Boston not too long ago, and it breaks my heart to see that wonderful city and its people affected by this terrible tragedy. May God give survivors the strength to keep them going and the love to keep them together. And of course, may He watch over those who passed away._

_On a much lighter note...Loki and Natasha's new hair. Wooooah. I was excited for the pics, then the more I look at them the more disappointed I am. I hope Loki's is only temporary, since it looks kinda ratchet to me. :3 As for Natasha's, I prefer her short curly hair. I feel like her new hairstyle has no life to it. Maybe cuz Loki sucked it out of her, which would explain his ratchet 'do._


	20. Return of the King

**Chelsea Grin (20)**  
**Return of the King**

**"Not brute force, but only persuasion and faith are the kings of this world."**  
**~Thomas Carlyle**

There was no epic fanfare, no bold and public proclamation to take on this daring task. Loki took his leave quickly and quietly. Only Natasha, Odin and Heimdall knew; Loki trusted them to keep his departure a secret.

He woke up even earlier than usual. Save for a few sentries, much of Asgard still slept. As he got ready to leave, he decided not to take any weapons with him. Even hidden ones. He wanted to command full trust among the Jotuns as much as possible. It would be foolish of him to underestimate the Frost Giants, despite their barbaric ways. The Jotuns checking for hidden weapons, and discovering that he possessed them, was always a possibility. Loki wasn't taking any chances. Simply being Laufey's son was not going to be enough. Given the former Jotun king's reputation, it might even backfire on Loki. It could risk a hostile reaction among those who have suffered under the tyrant's rule. He would come to settle conflicts, not start new ones. If the worst happened, then he would fail. Presentation was key, and Loki wanted the best possible image of himself.

'Like Natasha, I too have red on my ledger. I'd like to wipe it all out.'

Loki donned a dark cloak, pulled the hood over his head and went to get Draugur out of the stable. He rode to the Observatory, briefly enjoying the cool morning air against his face.

When he arrived, Loki inclined his head to Heimdall. "Hello, Gatekeeper. I'm afraid I cannot use the Bifrost at this time."

Heimdall knew what he meant. Loki had his way of traveling through secret pathways unknown even to the Gatekeeper's watch.

"Then what brings you here?" Heimdall asked.

Loki eyed him steadily. "I come with a firm warning. Should Thor find out and insist that he go after me, do _not_ let him or any of his comrades use the Bifrost to enter Jotunheim. At all costs."

"Understood. I hope that it will go well."

Loki couldn't help but be a little surprised. He knew that Heimdall could be trusted. What surprised him was the Gatekeeper's concern. They normally weren't on good terms. Loki didn't know how to reply. Finally he said, "...Thank you."

Loki took the same path he had used for his previous secret visit. It felt a vein of the Bifrost, only a fraction of its powerful energy and resonance. The harsh, frosty winds of Jotunheim greeted him as he stepped foot onto the realm.

Several Frost Giants, armed to the teeth, surrounded Loki like a pack of wolves. Cruel-looking polearms of all kinds were trained on him, ready to lunge forward in an instant. Though alarmed by their abrupt appearance, Loki did his best to remain calm. He raised both hands slowly and complacently.

"I come to you in peace from Asgard."

The biggest Jotun spoke up. His voice was so deep that Loki could barely hear him amid the whistling wind. "Who sent you here?"

"No one. I come to Jotunheim on my own accord."

"State your name, trespasser."

"Loki Laufeyson, raised as Odinson and a prince of Asgard."

A rumbling murmur circulated among the Jotuns. Loki thought he saw surprise in their red eyes. They lowered their weapons. Hostility didn't seem to glow as fiercely in their blood-colored eyes, which Loki took as a good sign.

The leader of the warriors didn't lower his guard, however. "Laufey's son, you say? Have you come to avenge your father?"

"No. I have negotiations in mind." Loki paused, thinking over his words carefully. "I humbly ask...for permission to speak with whoever currently holds sovereign over this realm."

"...That would be the council of elders." the Jotun leader finally growled. He squinted at Loki suspiciously. "I will have to blindfold you. The way to the elders must be kept secret at all times."

Loki nodded and complied. He made no sudden movements as he let the warrior pull a cloth over his eyes.

"Are you sure this is not a trap?" Loki asked warily.

The Jotun's reply surprised him. "I give you my word as Captain of the Elder Guard. Provided that you keep your word as a mere visitor."

"I do. I have no intention of stirring up conflicts of any kind."

He almost laughed at himself. The God of Mischief he was before would never make such a promise. It was in his nature to do otherwise. That would change today.

"Very well. I will escort you now. Guards, return to your posts."

Heavy yet quick footfalls on the ice could be heard in all directions as the Frost Giants obeyed their superior.

Loki almost flinched in surprise when the Jotun warrior swept him off his feet and carried him. He felt like a child, small and nearly weightless in the hands of the larger, stronger being. Blindfolded and armed with no weapons, Loki was easy prey to the Frost Giant's strength. He had no choice but to trust the warrior not to crush him on the spot.

The Jotun was surprisingly nimble and quick. His footfalls were careful yet sure as he tread the perilous ice. Loki sensed that they were descending the face of an icy cliff. He heard the rattle of chains as Jotun held onto what must be the only rails to help him climb down. Loki tightened his grip on the Jotun's armor. His fingers felt the bones and hide of some animal. The winds were biting and harsh. Luckily, as a Frost Giant, Loki wasn't numbed by the cold. He just didn't want to be blown away and spiral down to his doom. It would make a humiliating death.

Then his stomach dropped as the Jotun jumped. They fell a few feet before landing on the ground. Had he known, Loki wouldn't be so startled. Being robbed of sight felt disorienting and frightening. After a few minutes of hearing the Jotun warrior's footsteps, he finally stopped. He gently set Loki down.

"Wait here."

Loki did as he was told. He heard the Jotun step away. He heard the groaning of a door, ice grinding against ice. He stood there, blind and alone. But not cold. If Thor had been in his shoes, he wouldn't last this long under the merciless weather. Loki actually felt acquainted with the cold by now. It enveloped him like a second layer of clothing. Every breath he took felt fresh and pure in his lungs, free of oppressing heat and humidity. He was one with his mother realm. He felt like a lost child, a prodigal son that finally returned. The frost was her kiss. The cold air was her embrace. The wind was her whisper. "Welcome home," she seemed to say.

This comforted him despite the formidable task ahead. 'I must convince them that my place is here. I will make things right for a change.'

Half a minute later, the warrior returned. He untied the cloth, leaving Loki dazed for a few seconds as he took in the sight of the hallway carved from pale, blue ice.

"The elders have granted you access to their chamber. Come."

Loki squared his shoulders and tensed for a moment. He entered a large, ovular room. The seating of the elders followed that formation. All of them wore dark blue cloaks, their hoods obscuring much of their faces. Dozens of red eyes followed Loki as he strode to the center. Three wizened old Jotuns, as brittle as ice in the spring, perched in seats higher than the rest. Even higher still, a great throne remained unoccupied. A long white banner hung above the throne, the sigil of a black wolf's head masked by a sheen of frost. The wolf looked like a ghost, a shade of a once glorious past.

The Jotun in the middle peered down curiously. His eyes were milky pink, diluted from old age. "So you are Loki Laufeyson."

The former prince of Asgard inclined his head with respectful confirmation, saying nothing in reply.

"I am Elder Droga. To my left is Elder Shrakko, and to my right is Elder Worden."

Loki looked up. "Elders of Jotunheim, thank you for granting me the right to speak with you." The gratefulness he expressed was no lie. He had a better chance of getting his message across to wise elders, rather than a bunch of war-mongering brutes. "Forgive my ignorance, but I was not aware that Jotunheim had a council."

"That is understandable," Droga replied. "Hardly any outsider knows we exist, no thanks to Laufey's overshadowing rule. In Jotunheim's better days, the council served as an advisory branch for the king. We were supposed to be a significant, beneficial influence." Elder Droga let out a sad, rattling sigh, his breath pluming white in the frosty air. "Alas, Laufey had magnified his power beyond our reach. We had no say whether Jotunheim should go into war or not. I'm afraid that his attacks upon Midgard, upon those who call themselves Vikings, were entirely his doing. We were powerless to stop it. Odin of Asgard had to step in. Laufey's arrogance costed him, and us, the Casket of Ancient Winters."

"Without the Casket, Jotunheim fell under a great shadow," Shrakko said. "We remain in darkness to this very day. Divisions formed, civil wars ignited, and all that is good and true fell away. The council of elders stand as the last pinnacles of education and civilization."

The other sages silently nodded in agreement.

Shrakko closed his baggy eyes. "Now we are barely holding on. Jotunheim is in disarray, with many self-proclaimed chieftains and warlords vying for Laufey's throne. As regents ruling in the king's place, we are constantly in danger from raiding tribes. Warriors still loyal to the council and the throne defend us the best they can." The elder opened his eyes and indicated the Frost Giant next to Loki. "Ragbol, and others like him, have shown remarkable perserverance and courage through the centuries. We Elders cannot thank them enough. But I fear that they can only defend us for so long."

Loki glanced at the Jotun warrior next to him. Though Ragbol stood tall and grim, suddenly Loki sensed that he seemed as tired and sad as the Elders.

Loki's heart went out to them. He was seeing another side to this race. His race. He thought the day would never come for him to actually feel sympathy for them. They were consumed by darkness and in danger of losing their identity. Just like how he had been before he met Natasha.

Elder Worden squinted his eyes. "Have care not to tell this man our state of affairs so easily, my fellow Elders."

"He is the son of Laufey. He has a right to know."

Shrakko folded his hands and rested his chin on them. "We have heard that our late king had been slain by you, his own son, while he and his forces infiltrated Asgard. Is this true?"

"...I do not deny it." Loki tried to ignore the hammering of his heart. His face was a stoic mask as he gazed steadily at the council. "But I hope to offer you possiblities, and a chance for redemption in my father's stead. That is, if I am still eligible to succeed the Jotun throne."

Droga paused before replying, "By all terms and technicalities...you are. What say you, then?"

Loki swallowed. 'All right, here it goes.' "There shall be no more fighting, no more bloodshed and no more ill will. This I promise you, if you agree to crown me King. As the son of Laufey and heir to his throne, I pledge to rebuild our world, to truly restore its former glory."

He had said the same thing to Laufey, but that had been a mere lie to earn the Frost Giants' tentative alliance. Now he meant it this time. He had the power to do so. Loki held out his hands and presented to the Jotun court the Casket.

"Behold...the heart of this world, and almost a heart of my own. You could say that the Casket and I are one. I have used its powers to slay Surtur, but I do not intend to use it for my own benefit. Now I wish to initiate the restoration of this world."

The assembly of elders and high lords were silent for a few seconds, pondering over Loki's words.

Finally, Elder Worden spoke up with accusation ringing in his voice. "I do not believe him. Why should we trust our king's killer?"

"Have you not forgotten what Laufey's reign has done to us, Worden?" Droga replied mildly. "If Laufey's son had the power to defeat Surtur, he certainly has the power to unite our people."

Worden said nothing for a few seconds. He seemed to ponder Droga's words before finally responding. "Very well. I must admit that his victory against Surtur is nothing short of admirable." He turned to Loki. "But I hope you understand the considerable burden you are about to take. Even one who has quenched the fire will find it difficult to unite shards of ice. Your claim to the throne, while legitimate and supported by the council, will certainly be met with challenges."

Loki nodded. "I am well aware of this. Power and diplomacy must be exercised equally if I am to quell _and_ unite the Jotuns. I do not claim to solve this problem quickly. But I'm determined to see this through."

A faint smile found its way to Droga's face. "Your confidence is reassuring. Our best interest always lies in the king. We are willing to acquit your crime of murdering Laufey if, in turn, you cooperate with us."

"Of course. I welcome your support with open arms. I'll need all the help I can get."

It was important that, unlike his father before him, Loki established good terms with the council. As an important advisor to Odin for many years, Loki knew that the council's role was important and should be respected.

Droga looked down on Loki with approval. "You made a great sacrifice to take the life of Surtur, at the near cost of your own. Now you offer yourself again for the sake of our world. You have commanded our full respect. We have feared Surtur and his fiery brethren for eons. With him gone thanks to you, Muspelheim has greatly diminished in power. This gives us a chance to rise again under your rule."

The elder rose from his seat. Then he made a low bow. "Welcome home, Loki Laufeyson...the new King of Jotunheim."

Loki watched in awe as the rest of the court followed suit. Even the surrounding guards bowed. Here were the oldest, tallest, strongest and highest-ranked of the Jotuns. And they bowed before him. He didn't know what to say.

As if compelled by some unseen force, perhaps an overwhelming sense of obligation, Loki walked from where he stood at the center. He ascended to the empty throne. But he did not sit down. He remained standing, and turned his gaze up to the banner. The black wolf's head snarled above him. He remembered what the it was called now. A Varg. They were monstrous wolf-like creatures native to Jotunheim, known for their ferocity alone and in packs alike. Their howls were as chilling as the wind, their fangs as sharp as ice. They were very vengeful creatures; unlike most beasts, Vargs never forget. Loki had the ability to turn into many things. But now he understood. At the core, he was a Varg.

Loki lifted his right hand high. With a great sweeping gesture, he summoned the wind to blow the frost from the banner. The cloth rippled free from the constraint of time and disuse. The Varg looked even blacker, more alive.

"I cannot sit on this throne. Not yet. But for now, let this realm know that Laufey's heir has returned."

Though he did not raise his voice, it resonated with authority that filled the elders with awe they had not felt in years.

"What will you do now?" an elder from the lower ring quietly asked.

"I must go to Asgard and tell Odin Allfather the news." He hesitated and thought of Natasha. 'I'll tell her too.' "...Then I shall return."

Loki made his way to the chamber's entrance, allowing Ragbol to flank him. The elders bowed once more.

"Farewell, Loki Laufeyson," Droga said. "We look forward to meeting you again."

The doors closed, leaving the elders in silence. Then Droga spoke again. "I haven't felt this peaceful in years. Finally...after all this time, there can be peace and hope for Jotunheim once more. Do you see, my fellow Elders? The people of Jotunheim have become no better than a rabble of dogs. Now the true wolf has returned among us."

Loki became the bridge of peace between Asgard and Jotunheim, just like what Odin wanted.

But it presented another problem. A problem that was personal and different, in contrast to the warring Jotun factions Loki would have to face. A problem in which he can't find an answer. As Ragbol escorted him, Loki had only one question in mind.

'If I become king...what would that mean for my life with Natasha?'

* * *

_Loki has reached a new level of boss...literally! What challenges await him? ;)_

_I apologize for the lack of Natasha in this chap. The next one will be Nat-centered, I promise._

_Favorites, follows and reviews are always appreciated! I want to know if I've been doing okay, or this story is slowly becoming crap. Please be kind to tell me._


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